Two Brothers Walk Into A Bar
by Siarh
Summary: What happens if the MacManus Brothers run into the Dixon Brothers just days before the zombies start to rise? Will follow most of the main plot lines of S1 and S2 TWD with the Brothers thrown in to keep things interesting, after Season 2 it jumps off the TWD story line. AU. Rated M for language and smut. REWORKING/RE-EDITING- CHAPTER 1-7 DONE.
1. Pre-Zombie Bar Fight

Connor and Murphy wandered into the bar just up the street from the hovel they were holed up in just outside of Atlanta. It had been a long day. They had made the trek down to take care of some mafiosos that needed to be dealt with. A friend of Smecker's had gotten in touch with them through the usual channels and asked for them to come down to personally handle it. What should have been less than a 24 hour trip wound up being almost two full days of riding and hitchhiking. They needed a shower and a drink. And without any discussion at all, they decided the beer was more important than any shower could be.

Murphy held the door open for his brother, throwing the cigarette from the corner of his mouth to the ground, stomping it out before following. Dive bar didn't even begin to cover the redneck local place they found through the door. They just kept their heads down and headed to the empty end of the bar. They had to make do with a couple glasses of Newcastle, half surprised a bar like this even had it on tap. Wasn't Guinness or Harp but it wasn't the piss colored shit Americans called beer.

Connor was trying his best to ignore the two men sitting at the other end of the bar. Well he was doing his best to ignore the uglier of the two men, the snarl on his face seeming to be permanent. It was clear they weren't used to new folks just popping into the bar on a regular basis.

"Hey, pretty boy," Snarl called, addressing one of them. Murphy put down his beer, and looked over at Connor who dangled his glass above the bar top.

"Ya tink he means me?" Connor asked, pointing at himself.

His twin squinted his eyes, taking in Connor as if it was the first time he had seen him. "Nah, pretty sure he means me." Connor just pursed his lips thoughtfully as Murph fished a cigarette out of his pack and lit it.

When they looked back, Snarl had moved to stand next to Conn. "Are ya deaf as well as ugly, pretty boy?" he asked Murphy.

"Whut part of dat sentence was supposed t'make sense?" Connor asked.

His twin just shrugged as he leaned low across the bar, his shoulders casting shadows. "Somethin' tells me he," Murph pointed at Snarl though his eyes were trained on Connor, "has not been burdened with an overabundance of intelligence."

Snarl reached across Connor and grabbed the front of Murphy's shirt, dragging him up. "Why ya lil shit." He reached his second hand out and yanked the younger man over the bar, knocking over the twins' beer.

"Oi!" Connor called as Snarl tossed Murphy into a corner booth, the table snapping under the sudden weight. Connor moved to defend his brother, but a chair across his back dropped him to his knees. With a groan, he turned to see a fist slamming down on his face. Connor's head rang and he fell to the side, but was able to get on his back before the man above him began kicking him. Must be Snarl's cousin, or brother, or son, or something. They had the same feral-drop-dead look about them.

Connor grabbed Cousin's foot before it connected with his ribs and turned it to the side, quickly. Cousin howled with both anger and pain, and fell to the floor as Connor threw him off balance. "Mother fucker," he groaned as he hit the floor.

Standing, Connor took the quick respite to look at how his brother was faring. Murph was giving as good as he was getting by the looks of things. Snarl had blood coming from a cut over his left eye to match Murphy's bloody nose.

The sound of a switch blade being flicked open brought Connor's attention back to Cousin who came at him with the knife above his head. Cousin was quick but Connor was quicker and barely dodged the blade, as his hand reached into his coat and drug out a gun. Flipping the safety, he trained it on Cousin's forehead as he turned and stepped toward Connor again. Cousin stopped in his tracks

"Toss it," he motioned with his chin for the knife to be thrown to the floor. Cousin dropped the knife to his feet. "Kick it over 'ere." He complied again, this time with a snarl. "Good boy. Now get yer friend's attention over dere."

Cousin gave him another narrow eyed scowl. "Why?"

Connor answered that question with the sound of the hammer being pulled back. Cousin looked at the gun, and then licked his lips. "Merle!" he called, his voice nervous. But when Connor turned, his smugness died on his face as Merle had Murphy in a headlock, a snub nose .38 pressed to his brother's temple.

Other patrons of the bar pushed their chairs back and Connor's eyes flicked around, quickly realizing he and Murph were going to lose this fight, and maybe more if he didn't do something and quick.

"Now fellas. Let's not be hasty. 'm sure we can settle dis like gentlemen," Connor started.

The big man simply said "Fuck ya," and pulled back the hammer on his gun, dragging Connor's eyes to Murphy's. Connor stepped forward and placed the end of the silencer to Cousin's forehead, right between his eyes.

"Jesus, Merle," Cousin cursed, looking at the other man.

Murphy stared at Connor. "Why do our bar fights always wind up wid a gun pointed at me head n never yers?"

"Dis what happens when ye are t'pretty one," Connor teased. "Look," he now addressed the man holding the gun to Murph's head. "We are just here looking fer a drink, so could ye kindly remove the gun from me brother's head, n we can go back to our quiet drink in t'corner."

Merle nodded. "As soon as you remove yours from my brother," he growled.

"Oh ye are brothers, are ye?" Connor crowed. "I knew ye had t'be related somehow!" He pulled the gun away from Cousin, er, Brother's head and released the hammer. "Dere, now let us buy ye boys a drink, aye?"

* * *

Murphy returned to the table in the corner with round of beers to find Merle raiding his pack of cigarettes. "Hey!"

"What, pretty boy?" he dared as his brother, Daryl, fished a lighter out of his shirt pocket and slid it across the table.

Connor just rolled his eyes and grabbed one of the darker beers in Murph's collection before the front door of the bar opened. In walked two local police officers. The conversation at their little table dried up as all four pairs of ears attempted to tune into what was being said between the bartender and the officers over the bar noises. The cop holding the stupid ass cowboy hat Connor had never seen outside of the movies nodded while the other one squinted his eyes, surveying the patrons, expecting someone to jump up and confess something.

With a pat on the top of the bar, the cop with the hat turned to the other and they headed out of the door.

"Wonder what dat's about," Murphy muttered.

Merle just shrugged, taking draw out of his beer. "Usual bullshit. Looking for trouble where there ain't none."

* * *

**A/N: In the case of full disclosure and clarity Murphy and Connor are as old as they were in the 1st BDS. Daryl is the age he is in TWD.**

**And yes Murphy paraphrased Malcolm Reynolds at one point but it was too perfect... I couldn't help it.**

**And you can either blame or thank Annelisa for this little piece of crack. Will follow the show, throwing the twins into the mix during some of the highlights of the past 3 seasons. I'm not sure where it will take us but I'm sure it will be interesting.**


	2. Quarry Camp

"Oh look. Team Testosterone have returned from their hunt," Andrea quipped quietly to Amy. The younger girl stifled her giggle into her shoulder since she was up to her elbows in the bucket of suds.

"Please tell me no more squirrels." Lori muttered under her breath. "Am getting tired of the taste of nuts."

The four other women around the laundry area turned and looked at her for a split second before they burst into laughter. "Oh god," Lori said, absolutely mortified as she put her hand over her mouth.

The scuffing of boots on rocks behind them cut through the laughter. They all moved back to their tasks as Shane eyeballed them. "Hey, what's so funny?" He looked at Lori's red face.

She bit her lip and muttered "Nothin'," as she moved by Daryl and Murphy carrying the day's catch over toward the cooking fire. Murph nodded at her and continued on to where Carol was preparing the day's batch of ... whatever she had going in pot.

"Hey," she said, looking up at the boys.

Murphy's face lit up as their eyes met-the natural borne flirt. "Carol," he nodded at her. "We brought ye.." he paused and looked back at Daryl. "What did we bring 'er?"

"Groundhogs," the surly man provided.

Nodding his thanks, Murphy looked back at Carol. "Right. Groundhogs and squirrels, Lori's favorite."

Lori looked up at her name being spoken and blushed again when she realized who had spoken it. Murphy just winked at her as he handed over the string of meat to Carol.

"What the fuck is your problem, MacManus?" Shane asked, getting in the younger man's face. Shane was less than one inch from Murphy, their chests almost touching.

The dark haired brother just smirked at him."'sides havin a cop in me face? Not much 'd say. Daryl?"

The redneck just shrugged his shoulders, and walked away, heading toward the tent he and Melrle shared. "I'd say even tat ain't much of a problem, brother." He knew he didn't have to worry about Murphy getting his ass kicked by Shane. If Murph can almost best Merle in a dirty bar fight, he sure as hell could handle whatever Walsh decided to throw at him. And Shane's trusty Mossburg he carried across his shoulders like a cock on the walk was nothing compared to Murph slipping one of his Berettas out of its holster.

'Sides that, neither one of them had the balls to fire in camp. Too many people around to get hurt. Neither one of them were gonna risk hurting someone else because of their pride, or whatever reason they had for this pissing contest this time. Not to mention they were both down to limited ammo. Although the MacManuses kept their cards close to their chest with the rest of the camp, they had confided in him and Merle they were down to two clips each, plus what was still in their guns.

Shane took the last step forward, pressing his puffed up chest against Murphy. "Don't you ever let me catch you looking at Lori like that again. Do you understand me?"

Murph's signature smirk only went up a notch. "Ye are kiddin', right?" A crow of laughter echoed off the trees around him.

"What's that mean, MacManus?"

Murphy didn't think it was possible but the man's chest actually got bigger. What did he have in there? A balloon pump instead of a heart? Murph dropped his voice, not wanting to attract any more attention than they already had. And the little secret he was privy to, he didn't think the whole camp needed to hear, especially Carl. "Rumor has it, Shane, yer bestest friend in the world put dat shiny ring on her finger, but yet ye are t'one off bumpin' uglies wit her every chance ya get."

Murph turned when he realized Lori was listening to them. She stood with an arm across her chest, her other hand over her mouth, her eyes wide. She was beet red, and he knew it had nothing to do with the hot sun. He opened his mouth to apologize to the woman and that was his mistake, he realized too late.

The butt end of Shane's shotgun smacked Murphy across the cheekbone, making his head fly over his shoulder, spinning him for a second as stars danced before his eyes.

"Jesus Christ, Murph," he heard Daryl bitch from across the camp.

"Lord's name," came Connor's voice from the same vicinity. He must be back from wherever the hell he and Merle wandered off to earlier today.

But before his protective brother could get to them, Murph had one gun out and pointed at Shane's head. "Dat wasn't very nice, officer, now twas it?"

The former cop's only response was to chamber a round. "Stop it!" Lori screeched, moving between them. They were so close to one another she didn't have to extend her arms far to push at both of their shoulders.

"Lori," Shane said, his voice just above a growl. His eyes flicked over Murphy's shoulder signaling Connor and probably Daryl's arrival. Shane didn't like the Dixon nor the MacManus brothers much at all. What made him even more nervous was they appeared in the group as a packaged deal. And although he had yet to figure out what their connection was to each other, it made him very nervous. Any two of them could threaten his leadership role here, all four was a bad, bad idea, one that kept him up some nights.

"What? This doesn't concern me?" the woman asked sarcastically. "Just knock it off. Murph didn't mean any harm by it."

Murphy beamed at the compliment. "Aye! See Walsh, t'lady knows dis all in good fun. Maybe ye should yank dat stick out o' yer ass."

Lori's hand tightened on his upper arm. "You really aren't helping, Murph." She borrowed Connor's move she had seen countless times in the camp and cuffed him upside the head. "Put 'em away boys." There was a pause as both men continued to stare each other down. "Now. Don't make me take 'em away from you and put you in time out."

Murphy grinned, and reset the safety on his gun. As he slipped it back under his arm, Shane lowered the shotgun slightly, and Lori took the small gap between the men to push Murphy back.

"Let me get you cleaned up," she insisted, her eyes on the cut on his face, a guiding hand on his arm, pushing him away from Shane.

"Ye are gonna spoil me brudder, Lori," Connor informed her.

Lori looked at him as she pushed murphy toward the fire ring. "Isn't gonna hurt for me to look, is it, Conn?"

The over protective twin shrugged and wandered off to the outskirts of the camp with Daryl while Lori settled Murphy into a camp chair. She went to the RV to retrieve the first aid kit and stopped by the laundry to grab a clean wet rag. She returned to Murphy, dragging a chair up next to him.

He glanced at the kit across. "Not gonna be needin dat, lass. Nothin but a scrape," Murph said before hissing as she placed the rag on his face to clean up the blood.

Lori couldn't help a small grin. "Just a scrape, huh?" she asked, her face turning mock somber.

Murph shrugged, and let her clean him up. When she opened the first aid kit, and placed it on her lap, he looked at her. "I didn't mean it, Lori."

"Didn't mean what?" she asked distractedly, fingers flicking through the supplies, looking for ointment.

He smiled at her. "'m sure yer uglies are quite lovely."

Lori let out a disbelieving snort before glancing up at him and letting out an honest laugh. "You are unbelievable, MacManus."

"Can't fault a guy, could you?" His eyes met hers, his blues dancing with mischief.

Closing the case, she glanced past him, looking over his shoulder at Shane who could hear every word they shared, and who looked even more pissed off than when he held the shotgun to Murphy's head. "You are going to get yourself into trouble, mister."

Murphy did not even miss a beat, knowing who was listening. "Don't suppose I cou'd get a spankin fer dat, now could I?"

Lori laughed at him, standing abruptly. She grabbed the kit and threw the wet rag against his chest. "Have your brother tend to it that then," she said over her shoulder, walking back to the RV with a grin on her face.

* * *

Later that afternoon, Murphy walked by Conn sitting in the shade by Merle, and cuffed his shoulder. With the merest glance, Connor rose and followed Murphy's lead.

"Where ya'll off ta?" Merle asked. The only response he got was a wave of Connor's hand. "Limey bastards," he groused before falling back to sleep in his.

The brothers wove through the people in the camp, nodding and saying "'ello" as they went. They felt comfortable with most of the others here. But there was one that left them ill at ease.

"Carol, love?" Murphy asked softly as they made their way over to where she was hanging up laundry. Carol looked nervously over her shoulder toward her tent, making sure Ed was still inside asleep.

"Hey, guys," she gushed nervously, as she pushed her sleeves down, ensuring the cuffs brushed the backs of her hands.

The twins watched her fold her arms, tucking her hands under her arms.

She tried to smile, but it was forced and almost painful to look at. "What's up?"

Connor dropped down in a crouching position at the base of a nearby tree, letting Murphy take point on this one. Everyone in camp knew Ed Peletier beat his wife, and probably his kid too. But everyone else in camp pretended like it wasn't happening. Murph and he weren't everyone else.

Murph kicked at a rock and then moved closer to Carol. "Ye 'right?"

Carol bit her bottom lip and gave him a halfhearted smile. "Just fine, Murphy."

"And Sophia?" Murphy looked up at her from under his bangs, his eyes searching her face.

The skinny, pale mother gestured to where her skinny, pale daughter was playing a game with Carl by Lori and Shane. "She's fine."

Murphy nodded and looked up at her, trying to meet her eye. Carol however looked everywhere but at the two of them. "If dere's anythin ye need, ye'd let us know, aye?"

Carol nodded a little too enthusiastically. "You guys already take good care of the camp. Can't ask for more than that, can I?"

"Ye can," Connor interjected, as he stood. He looked at her hard. "And ye should."

* * *

Amy stopped in her tracks on her way down to the water's edge. She stood rooted to the spot, watching Murphy pull the too tight black shirt from his form. He let it drop to the rocks at his feet before pulling off his rosary, laying it on top of the shirt with reverence.

Andrea ran square into her with a huff and a curse. "What are you-"

Amy put a hand over her sister's mouth and motioned toward the man pulling off his jeans. "Oh there is a God," the older sister muttered through Amy's fingers.

The two women could do little but stare as the man shimmied, yes shimmied, out of his boxers and tossed them to the side as well. Even though they were a distance away, they heard a sharp word, in a foreign language. Andrea had noted at least three different languages exchanged between the brothers since they joined the camp.

Murphy waded until the water was over his waist and then dove under. Only then did the sisters look at each other. What did they do now? They had been headed down to the water's edge to do a little freshening up after the hot of the day was over, before the sun fully set. Looks like they weren't the only one with that brilliant idea.

They heard a splash and their faces went back to watch Murph surface. "What are ye lasses waitin fer?"

With a shrug and a giggle, Amy raced down the path, dropping her towel by Murphy's clothes.

"Amy!" Andrea called as her sister stripped off her T-shirt.

"Atta girl!" Murphy whistled as she dropped her shorts and toed out of her shoes.

"AMY!" Andrea yelled almost scandalized as her sister splashed out into the water, dressed in her underthings, swimming like a fish. The older sister stood on the shore, her arms crossed, and head shaking at the two of them acting like they were 10. Amy leapt at Murphy, hands set on pushing him under, as he dove under her, making her flop on her stomach instead.

"C'mon Andrea," he called when he surfaced again. Murphy swam towards the shore. "Water is lovely," he admitted as Amy launched herself onto his back, pushing his head under the water for a split second. Murphy stood up, and began walking toward Andrea, dripping wet, with her dripping wet sister clinging to him.

"Andrea!" they both shouted as he stopped when the water level reached his lower abdomen. She shook her head, and turned to pull her hat off, tossing it to the side before snagging the bottom of her shirt.

* * *

"Where's ta other one?" Daryl asked his brother as he gestured to one of the twins dozing by their dying fire after dinner.

Merle looked up at him with a half a smile, his eyes half closed. "Prolly off getting some alone time with Blondie." He gestured to her sister sitting next to an empty chair around another fire along with Shane, Lori, Dale, and a few others.

"Don't know what he sees in that girl," Daryl complained, moving toward the tent, set on going to bed and getting an early start in the morning.

Merle just snorted at his little brother, of course he didn't. "His dick, you idiot. Pussy's pussy, baby brother. It don't matter what flavor of bitch is wrapped around it."

"Well just remind his ass when he gets back, we're starting out early. I've seen sign, and I wanna see if we can get us a deer."

Merle closed his eyes in the chair, and just smiled. "'Member," he half-slurred. "He's goin' with us to Atlanta tomorrow. You're on your own with ta other one."

"No," Daryl started. "I thought this one was going with you."

The older Dixon just shook his head. "Which one of us is stoned here, brother?"

"Fuck it. I'll go alone." Daryl stopped unzipping the tent flap when he heard a metal squeak. Narrowing his eyes, he watched his truck move, slightly rocking. "Motherfucker using my goddamn truck?" Daryl asked, almost in disbelief.

Merle snorted, and then went back to snoring.


	3. Guts

**A/N: Sorry for the delay. Between the flu and the holidays, this has been a trial to get written. By far not my greatest chapter ever but the characters are anxious to get onto other things so here it is. Thank you to Annelisa for dealing with lengthy whiny emails about how much this chapter sucked.**

**Takes place during Season 1 Episode 2: "Guts" and the beginning of Episode 3: "Tell it to the frogs."**

* * *

Daryl did as he threatened to do, and left the following morning just before the crack of dawn without either of the twins in tow. They would just slow his ass down anyway. He couldn't even hunt all that well with Merle much less with one of those citified boys. They may be proficient with their handguns but they weren't hunters. They weren't even close. And neither could clean an animal to save their boney Irish asses. Not to mention their inability to keep their mouths shut for any length of time. No, Daryl was was better off going alone if he was going to come back with something to eat.

From the top of Dale's RV, Shane watched Daryl head into the woods, half wondering why his shadow wasn't going with him. Then he caught himself, and questioned why he even cared what any of that crew did. Shaking his head, he climbed off the top of the RV and set about shaking tents of everyone who was heading into Atlanta. The sooner they got in, the sooner they would get out.

"Can I see yer gun, girl?" Connor asked the woman squished between him and Morales in the back of the minivan. Glenn was driving, Merle has taken it upon himself to snag shotgun, and Jacqui and T-dog were in the center seat, nervously chatting.

Andrea looked at him for a half a moment like he just asked to see her appendectomy scar, completely confused and not the least bit interested in doing as he asked. "Why?"

Connor put his hand out, the back landing on her knee. "Just let me give it a look see, love."

"No." The Irish charm didn't work on Andrea even a little. And she certainly didn't need some cocky-as-fuck asshold checking her weapon for her.

He blinked. "No?" Connor wasn't used to people telling him no. Except Murphy, and even he didn't actually mean it most of the time.

The blonde shook her head. "No." Andrea turned her head to stare at him, making him almost wince with the scrutiny of her look. "Why this sudden interest in my gun, Connor?"

"Jus wanna see if ye have been takin care o it," he tried.

Andrea scowled at him. "You check any one else's gun while you are at it? Or just the girl's?"

"Is not like dat, lass." He grimaced, the crow's feet along the edge of his eyes deepening.

"Until you can tell me what its like, you are not touching my gun."

Connor caught Merle looking at him over his shoulder, giving him the what-the-fuck-crawled-up-yer-ass-you-pansy-ass-mom ma's-boy look. The younger man just shrugged and let it go.

The group all looked up as they heard Glenn's voice crackle on the radio announcing he had troubles with the geeks and had found another non-dead person. Connor pushed open the door, allowing T-dog and Morales to skedaddle out in their catcher's outfits, and waved Glenn and the tall dark haired man in a cop's outfit into the store. Once they were in, he softly a whistled for the Jason Varitek wannabes to scurry back inside before they attracted any more of the walkers.

He heard a scuffle and turned to find Andrea pushing the cop back against a pile of boxes, her gun in his face.

"Andrea No!" Connor yelled, reaching out to catch her elbow. This was not the time to panic. But she was well on her way of doing so. Standing wide-eyed, Glenn and the other men looked at him to do something. Why's it always gotta be him?

Andrea shot him a dirty look over her shoulder. "Let me go, Connor. He's killed us all."

The Irishman sighed. "Yer not gonna make it any better by killin 'im."

Her eyes narrowed but never left the man against the crates. "Might make me feel better."

With a glance at her gun, Connor exchanged a look with the man. The cop noticed the same thing Connor did. Andrea forgot to click off the safety. So until Conn heard that little click, he wasn't gonna worry too much about Andrea and her drama queen act.

Having determined that there was a chance to escape through the drain tunnel in the basement, everyone but Merle filed down into the murky depths of the building. Everyone stood around, staring at the hole until Rick encouraged Glenn to lay out the plan in his head.

As they started moving to their positions, an unmanly squeak came from the back of the group. Everyone turned to look at Connor who looked more than a little shocked before pointing over his shoulder at the red faced blonde behind him. "Was juss standin here," he started and stuttered.

Andrea threw her hands up in the air. "It was just...there." She gestured towards Connor's ass.

"It's always been just there," Jacqui piped up, her own cheeks blushing as glanced at Connor's now smug smile on his face, her eyes skidding from his blue soul sucking orbs. "You had to grab it NOW?"

Andrea shrugged and made a face. "Sorry?"

The plan to get out through the drain was a bust. And they had to come up with something else. And Merle was being Merle, and beat the shit out of T-dog. Even Connor couldn't pull him off the other man. When Rick handcuffed the coked up man to the pipe, Connor didn't interfere, figuring it was for the best to keep Merle contained and chilled out until they could figure out a good way to get out. Connor would deal with Merle when they got back to camp. The man needed to be adjusted out of the earshot of an audience, not in front of one. He wouldn't hear a word that Connor had to say, he would simply grandstand and run his goddamn mouth.

Merle tried his damnedest to sweet talk, cajole, and finally insult Connor into getting him loose. Finally when time came to move on a plan, Connor was quick to volunteer both to get the hell away from Merle's incessant mouth and because Connor just don't trust anyone else to do it.

The plan had been simple enough. Rick, Glenn and Connor were wander down to the construction site, smeared with blood and guts and body parts, pick up a truck and head back for the others. Little did they know that was going to be the easy part. By the time they jacked the truck, the geeks were swarming in front of the loading docks.

Connor and Rick gave each other a knowing glance as they approached the pretty red sports car. They didn't say much as Rick stopped the truck and Connor opened the passenger door.

Glenn poked his head out between the seats. "Oooo!" he exclaimed. "Can I drive?"

Connor nodded and stepped out of the box truck as the younger man scrambled over the seat. Rick looked at them both, his eyes flashing with the urgency that matched his voice. "Keep 'em away from the loading docks."

The MacManus brother nodded as he made sure the silencer was properly seated in the muzzle of his gun. "See you at camp," Connor called before slamming the door.

Glenn had entirely too much fun flying around the block with the alarm blaring in the stupid, overpriced shiny ass vehicle. Connor regretted letting the kid drive. He took corners too sharp, almost throwing them into more than one corner store. And he wouldn't even go all "Grand Theft Auto"- running over the geeks- because he did not want to mess up the car. Connor just shook his head and hung on.

Connor signaled for Glenn to stop the blaring sports car once they reached the outskirts of town. "Feckin' noise is givin' me a headache," the twin muttered.

"What?" Glenn yelled over the squeal of the car alarm as he pulled the car to the shoulder, as if another car would be coming along at any time! Connor half expected the kid to hit his four-ways.

He just shook his head and climbed out of the car. Pulling his boot knife, he yanked open the driver's side door. Glenn jumped a little. Pissed off Connor with a 5 inch dagger in his hand will do that. Glenn liked the Brothers Grimm -as the others in the camp had nicknamed them due to their choice in dark clothing even though it was Georgia in the summer time- well enough. But they weren't quite all there. Especially Connor.

The twin just smirked at Glenn's jumpiness and reached for the fuse box inside the door. He pried open the door with his knife and quickly located the correct fuse. With the tip of the knife, he popped the little piece of plastic and metal into his hand, with an audible sigh of relief as the noise quit. With even more satisfaction he dropped it to the ground and smashed it with his heel.

Amy rushed the red car as they pulled into camp. Glenn didn't even have it in park when she was leaning in Connor's window. "Where is everyone else?" she demanded, looking into the backseat as if the rest of their group was lurking back there.

"They're coming," Glenn assured her.

Connor caught her eye as he got out of the car, his hand landing on her shoulder. "Andrea's fine," he promised, smiling a reassuring smile at her. He hoped it was still the truth. Andrea was fine when he had left her to go with Glenn and Rick and retrieve the box truck. He had no way of knowing that was still the case. They had no communication with Rick or anyone else in the box truck to ensure that everything had gone according to the plan.

They did not have to wait long to find out. The box truck arrived, parking at the end of the row of vehicles. Connor squeezed Amy's upper arm as the others started hopping out of the back. Andrea ran for Amy and he couldn't help but grin at their reunion.

"Tings go ok?" came his twin's voice from behind him.

Connor turned and threw an arm over Murphy's shoulder. "Picked us up a new recruit."

"Ye mean 'nother mouth ta feed," the dark haired brother said with a wry smile.

He just shrugged. "Dis one might actually be able to pull 'is own weight. 'e got us out o' dere when de rest o us stood around wit our heads up our asses."

Murphy shrugged, and nodded his head. "Can't be all dat bad den."

A shriek of "DAD!" from Lori's son made the twins' heads crank around to watch Carl rush to the new man, the one Glenn saved, and Andrea almost shot. They stood speechless as they watched the man gather a rather stunned Lori into his arms. Connor stole a look at Shane and saw a crushing look on the man's face before he could contain himself.

Leaving the family a bit of privacy to reunite, Connor looked around the crowd, going to take this time to talk to Merle about his bullshit attitude back in town that could have gotten them all killed. When he didn't see the older man's surly mug, he looked back to where the Triumph and truck were parked. His eyes slid over the area the four of them shared and didn't see the disagreeable man anywhere.

Last time Connor saw him he was still chained to the pipe on the top of the building. And T-dog had the key.

"Oi T," he called. "Where's Merle?"

Swallowing hard, T-Dog looked physically ill as he met Connor's eyes. "He's on the roof."

Not even hesitating, Connor strode over and got in the other man's face. "Why da feck is 'e still on da roof?"

The other man didn't flinch. He stood there, staring at Connor. "I dropped the key," his voice determined but sad at the same time. As he drew in his next breath, T-dog found dirt and dust gathering in his nose as he laid on the ground, his ears and head ringing from Connor's fist.

"Wanna try dat again?" Connor asked, drawing his gun.


	4. Operation Free Dixon

"Look," Connor started, running his hand through his hair. He addressed Shane but there was a small group of others who decided to join the conversation. "We arn't askin' fer permission. Juss lettin' you know we're takin' ta car and goin back after Merle."

Shane shook his head, his Mossberg across his shoulders, his arms draped over the stock and barrel. There was a foreboding air about the dark haired man since his best friend came back from the dead. As if he was struggling to keep control of his hold over the group, though Rick had shown no outwards sign he was interested in taking over Shane's assumed position. "Not a good idea, boys."

Murphy's whole face crinkled whenever Shane referred to them as "boys". He was five seconds older than them, but yet treated them, and pretty much everyone else in the camp, as miscreant children.

"It's gonna be dark soon," Shane continued.

Andrea leaned into the conversation, showing the need to voice her opinion. "And that building was over run, there's no way they have cleared out by now," she said, her eyes meeting Connor's, holding his gaze for a few moments longer than necessary, as if she dared him to contradict her in front of everyone else.

Unimpressed with her pissy attitude, Murphy crossed his arms. "'ll da more reason we can't juss leave 'im!"

What was with these people? Murphy realized Merle didn't exactly make friends here but how could they try so hard to talk him and Connor out of going after the man. It was their choice, their lives if they fuck it up. The Dixons- well mostly Daryl- had looked out for the brothers since the world went to hell. And neither of them were not gonna let Merle be killed by those things.

T-dog spoke up, scratching his forearm. "There is no way the geeks are getting through that chain and lock. He's as safe as I could make him."

"Instead o' uncuffin'im," Connor challenged, a hard tone lacing his words.

Murphy gave his brother a quick look, making sure he wasn't going after T-dog again. Murphy didn't like that Merle was left behind any more than Connor was, but T was obviously remorseful over it.

"How's Merle gonna know dat, T-dog?" he asked, holding Conn's eye. "'e was coked up, aye?"

Everyone who was on the roof nodded.

"Man is always high on something," Glenn said, resignation in his voice.

"Not ta feckin' point," Connor countered. "He's gonna be paranoid and probably delusional." After past month-or maybe longer, he had a hard time keep track of time anymore- with the Dixons, he knew how fucked up the older brother's brain got when he was ripped.

Glenn looked slightly guilty as he asked "How long does coke usually last in a person's system?"

"A normal person or an addict?" Shane asked hotly.

"The man is beyond addict," Andrea observed, she had seen more than her fair share of addicts in her line of work. Dixon was far worse than some of them.

Rick waved his hand in front of him, trying to get the group to refocus. "Its pointless to go now." He looked up at the sky. "It will be almost dark by the time you get back there. Let's get some sleep and go first thing in the morning."

"But-"

"No buts Murphy," Rick said. "Gettin' you and your brother killed doing some stupid heroics is not going to save him either."

"sides is Merle Dixon worth either of your lives?" Shane asked.

Murphy quirked one eyebrow at him. "Ye suddenly care about our lives, Walsh?"

Shane glared at him hard, choosing his words carefully. "The safety of this camp is my main concern. And I'd rather have two steady guns here rather than one meth-head."

It was Connor's turn to stop his brother as Murphy took a threatening step towards Shane. Shane didn't even blink as he twirled his gun off his shoulders and into his hands, taking quick aim at Murph.

"Enough!" Rick hollered, trying to defuse this situation. He didn't know what it was about Murphy that irked Shane so, but clearly something about the younger man was under his partner's skin. Shane had always been hot headed, and quick to judge. Rick was still giving Murphy, and his brother for that matter, the benefit of the doubt, for now.

"Should we wait for Daryl?" Dale asked, cutting through the tension.

Rick looked at him, confused for a second.

"Merle's little brother," Connor provided.

"He has a brother?" Rick asked, his voice trying not to betray the thought that he had left a man to die on the roof of a building when he still had family, not just friends.

Shane nodded. "Who knows how long he will be out hunting."

"Think you could find him?" Rick asked the brothers, his eyes flicking from one to the other.

"Der's no findin Daryl in ta woods. Man find ye," Connor countered, running his hand through his hair. He hated this. He hated sitting on his hands and not doing anything when Merle was stuck on top of that building.

Rick nodded. "If he's here before we leave, then great, if not then it'll just be the three of us."

"You must be joking," Shane countered, turning to look at his partner.

"Rick think about this," Lori pleaded. "You just got back."

He turned to his wife. "I'm not leaving a man up there to die of exposure cuz of what I did." He twined his hand with hers, and looked at Shane. "How are we for guns and ammo?"

Shane just shook his head. "Not good at all. I'm down to half a box." He nodded to the twins.

"How about you?"

"Not good," was all Murphy offered.

Rick nodded and sighed. "I cleaned the guns out of the cage at the station before I left. And they are in a bag that I dropped outside of the department store. Not much in the way of Beretta ammo, but we have other handguns, rifles, and shotguns and over 700 rounds of ammo."

Shane ran his hand over his head. "That could be helpful," he admitted, sheepishly, looking up at Rick, consenting to this stupid asinine plan of his.

"Then we go in the morning," Rick said, again. He felt Lori try to pull her hand from his grasp, he held her tighter as he looked to Connor and Murphy. He would reason with Lori without an audience, later. Make her see what he had to do.

The brothers looked at each other and nodded. Rick was right, rushing off to try to get Merle now would be suicide.

"I'll come too," T-dog offered. "Its my fault he's up there."

* * *

Later that night after dinner, Connor and Murphy sat with the rest of the group around the fire. They had hoped Daryl would have returned tonight, but they knew once dark hit, he was holed up somewhere, and wouldn't be back til tomorrow morning at the earliest.

"I've been meaning to ask you boys something," Dale's voice broke through their thoughts. "What is it that you did before all this?" he gestured toward the ever present gun strapped under their arms.

Connor and Murphy looked at each other. "Кто-то собирался спросить в некоторой точке," Murphy muttered softly, before taking a slow drag off of his last cigarette.

His brother shrugged resignedly, his eyes flashing over the confused looks on everyone's face as they attempted to listen in on this conversation. "Abbiamo dovuto pensare una bugia buona prima d'ora."

"Два из этих людей являются полицейскими," Murphy reminded him.

"Non ci sono poliziotti non più, caro fratello."

Murphy could only nod at that. There were no more cops anymore. But that didn't mean Shane and Rick were quick to give up their sworn duties. Walsh was more than happy to draw on him for the smallest thing. This... This was no small thing.

"Have you heard of the Saints up in Boston?" Connor asked, his eyes avoiding the best friends sitting on either side of Lori across the fire.

"Is that a sports team?" Amy asked.

Murphy just smiled at her and shook his head.

"You can't-" Shane started, looking at the weapons, Berettas with silencers, then looking at Rick, before his eyes moved over the brothers. Murphy offered Shane a shrug and a half apologetic smile. Shane's hand went for his shotgun, dragging it from the ground beside his chair to the rest on his shoulder, and Murphy's wrapped around the handgrip under his left arm.

"Whoa! Ho! Wait a second," Dale called, leaping to his feet. "Let's not do something stupid." His eyes fell on Rick, hoping for some back up from him. "Who are the Saints?" This was clearly directed at the brothers, but Shane hefted his gun across his lap.

Shane's face contorted in anger. He had read about the Saints of South Boston a few years ago. They were doing the laws work, taking out lowlifes all over the town. "Some vigilante fucks taking the law into their own hand."

"Shane!" Lori admonished, covering Carl's ears.

Connor stood up and pointed at Shane. "If da law took care of dem, we wouldn't need ta."

Rick waved his hand at the men, standing trying to deescalate the situation and fast. "Hold on a second." He glanced down to see Lori clutching Carl closer to her, looking like she was ready to bolt and take the kid with her.

Dale's eyes jumped from one man to the other, afraid of what he had done. He was just making conversation, he never meant for any of this. "Take care of them how, Connor?" he asked, needing explanation.

Connor looked over at his dark haired other half whose fingers had not left the grip of his gun. "Destroy all that is evil so that which is good may flourish," they echoed each other.

An eerie silence filled the camp as the words sunk in. Confusion and panic erupted on everyone's faces.

"Wait," Dale started, putting the pieces together. "You killed people? Bad people?"

Connor nodded.

"Bad by who's standards?" Dale asked, an air of disbelief coloring his words.

"God's standards," the lighter twin offered, his eyes still not leaving Shane's hand.

The other man did not disappoint and popped out of his chair finally, his gun in his hand but at his side. "Bullshit."

"No, Walsh. Ye are full o' bullshit," Murphy said, finally standing, his hand still tucked under his arm. "Ye know we were right. Tink about it. How many people have you let out because of the bullshit system?"

Rick waved his hands again, taking a step toward the fire. "Enough." He was also having a hard time swallowing what the twins were saying. He did not doubt them, and he had dealt with enough with people who had mental disabilities, and were delusional to know these men were neither. But now, in front of all these women and children, was not the time to have a moral and ethical conversation of this leve, especially with guns drawn.

"Rick, man-" Shane sounded almost petulant.

His best friend shook a finger at him, and stared him dead in the eye. "No, Shane. Enough."

Walsh kicked at the fire ring, pushing his camp chair to the ground as he stormed off.

* * *

"Hey," she called as she jogged to catch up to him after everyone else disbursed from the fire, heading to bed. He did not even slow up though she knew he heard her. "Hey wait up," she said a little louder, reaching for his elbow.

With a heavy sigh, he finally stopped, and turned to face her. "What tis it, lass?" He ran his hands through his hair, and chewed on his bottom lip. He tried not to sound snippy with her. None of this was her fault. He was afraid he had lost what little crediblity he and his brother had with the rest of the camp because Shane was a douchebag.

"Nothing," she admitted, coming to stand in front of him. "Just thought you could use a friend." Glancing over her shoulder back at the rest of camp to see that no one was paying them any attention this far from the group, she stepped forward, reaching for his hand. Her touch was met with hesitation, his eyes flicking back toward the camp as well.

"Maybe ye should go ta bed," he suggested, hooking just his fingertips over hers briefly before letting her go. He looked up at her face, and she didn't hide the disappointment and hurt. "Hey," he relented, feeling like an ass. He stepped forward, brushing blonde hair over her ear with the ends of his fingers. He cupped the side of her face and kissed her softly. "I appreciate it," he said, reaching for the hand he let go. "Am juss not good company right now, and I know it."

She half smiled and kissed him. "I wasn't looking for good company. I was looking for you."

* * *

Murphy was putting his boots on when they all heard Sophia and Carl's screeching from the woods the next morning. He and Connor found themselves racing behind Rick and Shane towards where the kids were screaming.

They found a walker chowing down on a deer. While the other men beat the walker to the ground and Dale decapitated it, the twins stood back, close to Andrea and Amy. There wasn't a hell of a lot they were going to do with their guns since Shane gave the order to save as many bullets as possible. But they kept a lookout for other walkers.

At the sound of the rustling in the trees, the boys drew their guns, though they had a sneaking suspicion it wasn't a walker. They had both heard that noise before. Sure enough Daryl's surly mug came around the tree.

"Son of a bitch," he swore. "That's my deer."

They holstered their weapons as he nodded at them, and Connor headed back to the camp, leaving Murphy to talk to Daryl. They got along better, some sort of connection between the two of them that even Connor didn't get.

A few moments later when Daryl walked into camp yelling for his brother, Connor knew Murphy hadn't pulled him aside to tell him the news. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Connor exhaled slowly. Coming from anyone else but him or Murph, Daryl was going to lose it. Hell, he was going to lose it anyway.

Connor quickly caught up with Daryl, cutting off Shane as he attempted to talk to him. "Hey," he said putting his hand on Daryl's shoulder. "Look, sometin's happened."

The other man was looking around the camp. "Where's Merle?"

"Something happened in Atlanta," Shane started.

Daryl came up short and looked from each man before asking "He dead?"

Murphy had caught up with them, and pushed his way past Shane. He reached a hand out, placing it on the tense man's shoulder. "We're not sure."

Dixon brushed his hand off. "He either is or he ain't," his voice was cold and cutting.

"There is no easy way to say this so I'll just say it," Rick joined them.

"Who are you?" Daryl looked at Rick and then flashed a glance at Murphy, trying to determine if this man was friend or foe.

"Rick Grimes."

"Rick Grimes?" Daryl mocked. "You got something to tell me?"

The former police officer's shoulders slumped in defeat. He had told any number of family members about bad things happening to their loved ones. But never before was it his fault. "Your brother was a danger to us all. So I handcuffed him on the roof to a piece of metal. He's still there."

"Let me process this," Daryl wiped at his eyes. He pushed at Rick's shoulder. "You handcuffed my brother to a roof and you left him there?"

"Yeah," Rick nodded.

Connor stepped forward as Daryl tossed the squirrels to the ground and charged at Rick. The twin pushed him to the ground. "Stay out of this MacManus," Daryl growled, his eyes trained on Connor. "Where the fuck were you while he was cuffing my brother to the roof?"

"Lookin' for a way out o' da building."

Daryl shoved Connor off of him. He yanked his hunting knife from its sheath and got to his feet.

"C'mon, dis isn't going to solve anytin'," Connor started, moving in a slow arc around the very pissed off redneck. Connor couldn't say he blamed Daryl in the least. If their places were reversed and Murphy was on that roof, Rick would have had a hole in his head 2 seconds after saying "yeah."

Murphy stepped forward, getting between Daryl and everyone else, moving with him, palms out at his side, acting like a buffer. He didn't say anything. There was nothing he could say that would make this any better but he could ensure this didn't escalate any further.

Not taking the buffer for granted, Rick walked behind Murphy and looked at Daryl. "What I did was not on a whim. Your brother does not work or play well with others."

Spilling the firewood from his arms, T-dog finally joined the conversation. "For what it's worth, I chained the door so the geeks can't get to him."

Daryl turned quickly to face the newest member of their conversation. "Are you saying there's a chance he's still alive?" Some of the fire drained out of him, much to everyone's relief.

"Headin' out first thing dis morning to go get him," Murphy offered.

"What the fuck are we all standing around for then?" Daryl asked, wiping at his face again. The Brothers Grimm moved to walk with Daryl. He jabbed a hard finger into Connor's chest. "Not you, motherfucker. You had your chance to save my brother. I trusted you. So did Merle. You keep your limey ass here."

"Brother," Connor started, his face falling.

His jaw setting, Daryl whirled on him. "Don't you 'brother' me. You left my only brother ta die. I'm done wit you." With a dismissive swipe of hand, he stormed off, going to get his things.

Murphy stood rooted in spot, staring at his twin, who looked more than a little hurt. He had no words to stop the sting of Daryl's words. They were the very words he knew Connor had been saying to himself since he found out Merle was missing.

"Go, Murph. Keep 'im from gettin' hisself or anyone else killed. 'M fine," Connor told him turning to wipe at the moisture on his face. Murphy knew it wasn't sweat that stung his eyes.

"Aye."

* * *

Translations:

Кто-то собирался спросить в некоторой точке -someone was going to ask at some point

Abbiamo dovuto pensare una bugia buona prima d'ora-should have thought of a better lie before now.

Два из этих людей являются полицейскими-two of these people are cops

Non ci sono poliziotti non più, caro fratello-There are no more cops, dear brother


	5. Hit or Miss

**Takes place at the end of _Tell it to the Frogs_, skims right over _Vatos_ and jumps to _Wildfire_. And to clarify, I am following the basic script of the show, occasionally stealing directly from it. I will also be skipping over things where having the MacManus brothers present is not going to affect anything, so I may jump around a bit, but assume that which I skip did happen.**

**There is smut in this chapter. This chapter is for LeanneDaseyLover who semi-patiently waited for it. Let me know what you think!**

* * *

"Come with me now," Ed grabbed Carol's upper arm roughly, pulling her from the group doing laundry by the water's edge. Andrea pushed her way between the married couple, and tried to get Ed to let go. Instead he reached out and struck his wife, probably an intimidation tactic to get the blonde to back the hell off. Connor rushed down the stone path, heading for the scuffle intent on breaking every bone in the man's body, keeping him from touching any of the women. He and Shane appeared to have the same idea, as they grabbed him by his shoulders. Connor pried his fingers from Carol, as Shane yanked him back from the group.

"Son of a bitch," Shane swore as they threw the man to the ground a distance from everyone else. Connor grabbed Shane's fist and pulled him away.

"Mine," Connor said simply, and the dark haired man stood back with a nod letting the younger man have at Ed. Connor's fist pounded into the man's face, splitting skin with each contact. He felt teeth loosen with a sick satisfaction. The man below him on the ground was a shit turd lowlife, who didn't deserve a woman like Carol. He didn't deserve any woman at all. Connor never understood why she was with him.

After what seemed like mere milliseconds, Connor heard Shane bark behind him. "Enough." His command fell on deaf ears. "Connor, enough," he growled, grabbing at the wiry man beating Ed's face to a bloody mess. MacManus yanked out of his grasp to slam his fist into the man's face again.

Shane walked over and picked up his shot gun. He held it to Connor's head. "I said enough," he growled, chambering a round.

That stilled Connor's hand, his heavy breathing the only thing that could be heard over Ed's soft moans. The twin still stared down at the man below him, not looking at Shane. His face was a bloody mess, and he would be damn lucky if he could see out of his eyes any time soon.

"Ed, you touch your wife, your daughter or anyone else in this camp ever again, and I will not stop him next time," Shane growled.

Connor stood and saw Carol rush by him, sobbing, apologizing to her husband. He reached out to stop her but the slight woman just shrugged out of his grasp and fell to her knees beside Ed.

* * *

Daryl kicked through the door to the roof of the building. "Merle!" he yelled, jogging for the walkway. The other men parted ways and let Murphy rush after him. And despite his stomach for blood, Murphy actually felt nauseous at the sight before him. He knew it it was because of what Connor had had to do to his own hand when they were trapped in Poppa Joe's basement. His hand ached around the gun he held as Daryl yelled in frustration. Murphy reached out to touch the man on the shoulder, but he in turn whirled his crossbow pointed at T-Dog's head.

"I won't hesitate. I don't care if every walker in the city hears it," Rick said soft but authoritatively as he placed the barrel of his Python to Daryl's head.

Murphy knew Rick was dead serious but he also knew Daryl wasn't going to kill T-Dog. No matter how hard Merle had tried to instill it in him, Daryl was not like his big brother, was not as hard, not as cold. He could kill any number of fuzzy animals without blinking, but a man he knew as well as he knew T-Dog wasn't happening.

* * *

He pushed her face first onto the bed she shared with her sister in the back of Dale's RV.

"We don't have time," she whispered hotly, knowing the rest of the group was right outside the open windows, laughing, chatting.

He grabbed her hips, encouraging her to her knees just at the edge of the bed. "'Course we do," he insisted, yanking at her jeans, pulling them and her panties over her hips, pooling them at her knees. He leaned forward and ran his tongue from her clit to her ass in one broad, rough swipe. The blonde groaned into the sheets she fisted, pushing her ass back against his face.

"Taught ye weren't interested." he teased.

She looked back at him in the darkness. "Am always interested. Just didn't think we had..." He pushed himself fully into her making her sigh, "time."

He roughly grabbed her hips, moving in short hard strokes, loving the way she tightened around him each time he backed off. He pressed his forehead between her shoulder blades, listening to her soft moans. "'m not gonna last long," he admitted, his voice apologetic, though they really did not have the time to do this as well as he wanted. they could be discovered rather quickly, with the others just outside the RV, enjoying the fish that she and her sister patiently caught earlier in the day.

"Touch yourself," he commanded.

She uncurled her hand from the sheets and reached down between her thighs. She swirled a fingertip in the wetness around him and dragged it up to her clit. Groaning, her hips moved faster back against him as her fingers danced. "Damn it, lass," he gasped.

His hands tightened on her hips as his strokes got shorter, the only sound in the RV was their heavy breaths and the hard slap of skin against skin.

Looking back over her shoulder she stole a look at him. Eyes closed, head back, he had to be the hottest man she had seen in awhile, save his brother. Her eyes drifted down his clothed torso. She noticed the holsters of his guns were still in place.

Fuck.

His guns were still in place. He was fucking her, and had been in such a rush to do so he didn't even bother to take his guns off. A high pitched whine started in the back of her throat as she barreled quickly into completion. "Oh fuck," she gasped into the bed as her fingers worked furiously between her thighs. He bellowed his release into her back, hot pants across and through the material of her shirt.

They stayed like that for a bit while they caught their breaths. With a kiss on the back of her head, he pulled away, allowing her to stand and straighten her clothes.

"Been thinking," she said as she fastened her jeans, watching him do the same. "Maybe we should... Maybe..." her voice trailed off.

"Whut?" he asked reaching for her, kissing her softly, pulling her into his arms

She shook her head. "Nothing. It's stupid."

She pulled away from him. She had been thinking the two of them should maybe get their own tent, then they wouldn't have to sneak around, stealing these moments where they could, in the RV, Daryl's truck, his tent when his brother was off with one of the Dixons. It was stupid. It was too soon. They had only been fooling around like this for a couple weeks. She would wait a bit before bringing it up.

"I should to back out there," she said.

Reluctantly he let her go. He grinned at her retreating form as she reached for the lock on the RV door. She stepped out the door.

"We are out of toilet paper!" she called to the group.

He smiled and looked down at his feet for a second, waiting for her to move back to the group before he made his escape from the RV. Instead of moving, she screamed.

"Amy?!" he called.

Connor pulled his Berettas out and moved to the door to see a walker on Amy, biting her neck.

"Oh, God!" Connor yelled.

He shot the walker through the head and watched Amy fall to the ground. Andrea bolted for Amy, and Connor knew there was nothing more he could do for the girl. He stood over them, guns drawn, making sure nothing harmed Andrea.

* * *

The rescue party had had little luck finding Merle. And someone had stolen their vehicle. But they had the guns and that was something, Rick thought to himself. The men were hoofing it back to camp at a moderate pace when they heard gun fire from camp.

Daryl and Murphy were the first to rush up the dirt road, guns drawn. The other three not far behind. What they found was the camp in chaos. Each man's eyes flew through the mass of people searching for those which they cared the most about. Rick found Lori and Carl cuddled with Carol and Sophia, headed for the door of the RV.

"To the RV!" Shane was yelling at everyone. He, Dale and Connor made a small barrier between the walkers and the women and children behind them. Glancing down at Andrea kneeling next to a dying Amy, Murphy nodded slightly to Connor, coming to stand next to his brother. Connor looked pissed off at the world and in pain at the same time. Murphy looked him over and realized he wasn't bit. He was upset he let his little blonde friend get hurt. The dark haired twin tossed him a Beretta clip from his pocket. Murphy brought the shotgun in his hand up to his shoulder, picking off a walker as Connor reloaded his empty gun.

In what seemed like a blink of an eye, the attack was over. But was it really? Murphy looked over at Rick, who was cradling Carl and Lori against him as the last walker fell. Shane tried not to notice them, but at the same time stood over them, his gun at the ready. Holstering his now empty guns, Connor moved to sit across from Andrea, reaching for Amy's other hand. All the other shooters took turns replacing depleted ammo as quickly as they could out of their pockets and from the bag that Rick dropped by the RV. Murph kept an eye on Carol and Sophia, noting that Ed was nowhere to be found. Not terribly surprising. The prick.

"Amy," Connor whispered. Her eyes opened slightly. "'M sorry, love." His voice cracked, breaking Murphy's heart. They hadn't been together all that long, this thing between them only a couple weeks old, but he knew his brother had started caring for the girl.

Amy just smiled. " 'S 'k," she slurred softly before closing her eyes again, for the last time. Her breathing hitched and then stopped.

"No!" Andrea wailed. "Amy!" she cried. Connor sat speechless, and unsure what he should do as tears fell onto Amy's shirt from her big sister's eyes.

Murphy sucked his lower lip between his teeth and moved over to Shane, Daryl and Glenn close behind. "What now, boss?" Murphy asked.

Shane sighed heavily. "I'm sure that much gunfire caught others' attention." The men could only nod. "Shit," he ran his hand through his hair, glancing at the gun bag. "Guess we triple watch for tonight. And everyone else sleep with their guns."

Glenn snorted "You think I'm sleeping tonight?"

Murphy gave him a half a grin, putting a supportive hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Daryl and me'll go through camp, see who we can find tdat hat might need help. Wiill send anyone up here."

Shane nodded, and looked at the sky. "Have 'em bring bedding with them. Have everyone sleep right here in front of the RV. It'll be easier to watch, and safer to have all the guns right here in case we need them." Murphy and Daryl started to move away. "And guys," Shane said softly, making them turn back to him. "Finish anyone you need to quietly." Both men gave him a quick nod before heading through the camp.

* * *

Connor reached a hand out to brush Amy's hair back from her face. Andrea didn't even look up at him as she spoke. "She never told me what was going on with you two. I wondered why she was so happy lately, what with everything going on. I thought if anyone it was Murphy." Andrea babbled. "I mean you are nice and all," she apologized.

"She is a lovely girl," Connor offered, with a small smile for the older sister even though she never looked up from her sister. "Wish we had time ta know each other longer."

Andrea nodded, her eyes never leaving her sister's face.

* * *

Coming down the top of the RV as Morales came to take over watch the next morning, Murphy looked over at his brother, his back against the vehicle, his eyes trained on Andrea, his gun hanging from his hand. It was clear Connor had not slept a wink, keeping watch over the two women. it was doubtful Andrea had slept either, her hand wrapped around her sister's. Waiting. Both of them waiting for the second end that was coming at any time.

* * *

**Thanks to Annelisa for her never ending support and answers to stupid questions. And her willingness to read my smut.**

**As always, please leave a review at the door. Your support keeps my fingers moving over the keyboard!**


	6. Quandry

_"Where's Andrea?" Connor yelled to Murphy as they hauled ass to the vehicles parked outside of the CDC, the building seconds from exploding._

_"Didn't know it was my turn to watch her!" The lighter twin stopped to look over his shoulder. "Conn!" Murphy yelled, knowing exactly what was going through his brother's mind. "Got no time to go back!" Murphy yelled at him, grabbing at his arm and shoulder. "Daryl!"_

_"Don't go get killed over some stupid bitch," Daryl yelled, grabbing the other side of Connor._

_The RV's horn sounded behind them, and their eyes focused on Andrea and Dale emerging from the broken window of the building. Daryl and Murphy dropped their holds on Connor and ran for the truck, just barely getting in the cab._

_"Everybody down!" Rick called, as Connor, Dale and Andrea dove behind the pile of sandbags just seconds before the building imploded._

* * *

Murphy laid in his tent in the Greenes' front yard, staring up at the dim shadows that danced across the nylon. Arms tucked behind his head, he glanced over at Connor's empty spot and sighed. He was on watch. Not that it was his fucking turn to be on watch. It was Andrea's.

Murphy wasn't sure what he was going to do with his brother. Connor had been moping since Amy's death. He took it a lot harder than expected. At this point she's been gone twice as long as they had been fucking. How meaningful could the relationship have been to him? Not that Murphy was some heartless prick who couldn't feel anything, it just seemed unlikely that Connor and Amy would have been more to each other than a fling, a passing fancy until someone else came along.

Before hell broke out, Connor would have never have given a girl like Amy more than a smile and a wink at McGinty's. He might have gone home with her one night, but really much beyond that...It was nothing against Amy. She just wasn't his brother's type.

Maybe that was the problem right here. Maybe Murphy still saw the world as the way it was, with its order in the chaos, the things that made sense in his brain, kept order. Maybe he needed to make his brain wake up and see there was no more order in the chaos, there was only the chaos.

Maybe he shouldn't have been surprised that Connor might have felt more for Amy than just some chick he was nailing. Who knew where it may have taken them?

Maybe Murphy was just jealous Connor had found someone. So far the end of the world had provided nothing in the way of female attention for him. One would think women would be throwing themselves at him in such situations, but outside of a few questionable looks from Glenn and a few sparks thrown off of one of the farmer's daughters, Murphy had nothing to show for the end of the world.

Connor was taking Amy's death a lot harder that Murphy would have expected. That coupled with Andrea's stunt at the CDC that almost got Dale and herself killed, Connor had begun hovering almost smothering the older sister. It might have been endearing but Andrea was not the type of woman who wanted to be taken care of even if she did need it at times. The guilt that wracked Connor made him single-minded. Since he couldn't save Amy, he was going to save Andrea. And honestly, Murphy wouldn't be surprised if the woman shot him before long.

After the CDC, in what now seemed like a whirlwind of events the group was now camped out in the yard of the Greene family's home, waiting for Carl to heal from a gunshot wound and searching for Sophia, searching for the little girl Connor and he thought they had protected.

Murphy and Connor were pilfering their way through one of the abandoned cars close to where Carol, Lori and their kids were. If Rick wasn't gonna keep an eye on them someone had to. When Rick ran up on them and told them to all climb under the vehicles, Murphy had grabbed Sophia and stuffed her under a car and ran to see that the women had done the same. He dove under a van with Connor, laying and waiting for the herd to leave. Once they were fairly sure the herd was gone, they shifted out from under the vehicle, which Sophia mimicked. And that was their mistake.

As they stood on the side of the road waiting for Rick to return with Sophia, Murphy wrapped his arm around Carol's shoulders where she stood staring at the section of woods that had swallowed them. "If anyone is going to find her, it's going to be Rick," he muttered looking around for Daryl. Daryl would have been a better choice but at the time he was down the road, helping T-Dog.

Daryl was quick to take up the charge when Rick came back empty handed, claiming to have had Sophia but that she was gone again. And so far the other man had yet to quit looking for the girl.

Rolling out of bed, Murphy reached for his jeans, determined to go with Daryl today. So far, he had missed the man leaving every day. If he didn't catch him today, the only other options Murphy had left were to put a cowbell on Daryl's tent door or to sleep with him.

"He already left," Carol offered, noting where Murphy was looking as he emerged from the tent.

With a resigned sigh, he headed over to where she sat by the fire. He plopped down next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Right stubborn bastard isn't he?" he mumbled before kissing the side of her head. "But he'll find her," Murphy promised the woman with perpetual tears. "If anyone will, it'll be him."

* * *

The MacManus brothers were helping Dale and T-Dog unload water containers from the back of Daryl's truck when Maggie wandered up to them, a dubious look on her face.

"Hey," she said, shoving her hands in her back pockets, glancing hesitantly around.

The four men all nodded at her and continued to unload the water. "I am making a run into town, to the pharmacy, for supplies for my dad." she said. "And Rick wants you to come with me." The brothers both looked at her, and Murphy's smug smile fell a little when he saw the woman's eyes on Connor.

"Whut?" he asked. "Whut for?" His eyes strayed over to where Andrea was helping Glenn move firewood into the camp. "Why not take Murphy?"

It was Maggie's turn to frown. What the hell? Her eyes strayed to Murphy for a second, half appraising, half a cry for help. "I .. I don't know." She wasn't about to stand here and justify this run was worth Connor's precious time. "Look I can go alone. I've done it before. Just Rick wanted to send one of his better shots with me just in case. But this is a milk run. I'll be fine." She turned in her heel and headed for the stables.

"Wait, girl," Connor called. The term 'girl' earned him a raised eyebrow over her shoulder but Maggie stopped. "I'll come." He looked at Murphy. "Tenete d'occhio," he instructed, though his brother rolled his eyes, knowing it was coming. Connor fell into step with Maggie. "So Rick thinks I'm one of his better shots, aye?" he asked loud enough to bait Murphy

* * *

Connor watched Maggie blatantly stare at him. Well actually she was staring at his feet. With a half shrug she moved into the stable. "Ever ride before, Connor?"

"A horse? Once. When I was 10."

An arched eyebrow shot up her forehead. "How'd that go?"

Connor just shrugged. The horse had gotten spooked and threw him. And Murphy swore he screamed like a girl on his way out of the saddle. No reason he needed to let Maggie in on that tale.

"Juss go easy on me, aye?" He squinted at her, one eye open.

Maggie nodded and handed him a blanket before opening the stall door. "I'm gonna put you on Cloe here. She'll be gentle on you. She's used to skittish people."

Connor was offended. "Skittish? Girl- I mean Maggie-"

"I call 'em like I see 'em, boy," she said over her shoulder, smoothing her hand over the chestnut shoulder of the horse before clipping the lead rope on the halter. "And we don't need any added hurdles. Back up."

Connor assumed the last command was for the horse until he looked to see her staring at him with expectant eyes. Clutching the blanket, he moved out of the doorway of the stall and let her lead the horse out.

"We jumpin' hurdles? Taught we were just going on a supply run."

* * *

"Hey Mr. Grimes, " The blonde bounced up to where he sat with Murphy and Shane pouring over the maps Maggie had provided before heading into town with Connor.

"Hey, honey," Rick turned in his seat to look at Beth, who looked at each man around the table with trepidation, less sure of each of them. Murphy caught her looking at him, and gave her a signature smirk, making the girl blush and yank on an errant strand of blonde curl. Rick noted her blush and gave Murphy an amused smile followed by a look warning him. Murphy shrugged as if to say "Stop what?," shifting his eyes back to the map.

Beth seemed to snap out of her staring and looked at Rick. "Daddy wanted to talk to you and your... ah... wife about Carl."

Rick rose quickly. "Is he ok?".

Beth smiled apologetically. "Yeah he's fine." She shifted her weight. "Just needs to talk to you when you have some time. When your done with...this." She waved her hands broadly over the map and half gestured to the other two men. As abruptly as she arrived, she headed back to the house.

* * *

Lori jerked back at the sound of the knock on the door, her eyes falling on his. "Sorry," Murphy mumbled. "Juss came to see how he 's." The man gestured to Carl, asleep on the bed.

Lori caught the tears on her face with her fingertips and wiped them on her pant leg as she rose. "Yeah," was her only reply as she looked at her son. Stopping just in front of Murphy, she folded her arms across her chest, hugging herself tight, a move he had seen her use countless times. "Hershel says he's gonna be fine." She smiled up at him weakly, but the tears were back in her eyes.

"Feck, Lori. C'mere." Murphy opened his arms, and she didn't even think twice about stepping into his embrace, letting him hug her tightly to his chest. She unwound her arms to wrap them around his waist, pressing her face into his chest. Murphy laid the side of his head against the top of hers. "What's dis for den?"

Lori snorted wetly from the confines of his embrace. "Maybe cuz I'm a woman."

Murphy had to give her that one. Lord knew why women did half the shit they did.

* * *

Murphy rolled over on his sleeping bag, looking at Connor who was now staring at the top of their tent. "You have been a might bit quiet since you returned from town with the farmer's daughter," he teased softly in Gaelic, the only language they were confident no one else in the camp could understand, except for the few words that Daryl knew from growing up with his Irish grandparents.

Connor gave him an amused smile before tossing a dirty sock in his face. "Lori's pregnant," he replied simply, using the same language.

"How the fuck do you know that?" Murphy had just talked to her in the house earlier about Carl. She was crying at Carl's bedside...She seemed worn out, but Carl had been shot, that would take it out of anyone. She seemed jumpy and out of sorts but they all were.

"She had me pick up one of those test things." Connor's hands made a box like shape, as Murphy stuffed a finger in his mouth to chew on.

"Feck."

"Yeah."

"Who do you suppose..." Murphy trailed off, yanking his finger from his mouth.

"All I do know is it isn't mine."

"She's human, Conn. She thought Rick was dead."

Connor rolled on his side and looked at his brother. "Sure its not yours?" he teased.

"Don't be an ass," Murphy grouched, flopping on his back. "She's a married woman. I have boundaries, unlike my brother."

Connor huffed, wondering if he was gonna ever let go of that. "How was I to know? She wasn't wearing a ring."

* * *

**Translation:**

**Tenete d'occhio-Keep an eye on her**

**A/N:An enormous thank you to Annelisa for helping me keep my sanity while writing this chapter. Also thank you to all my loyal readers, reviewers. Your reviews and favorites helps motivate me through these chapters! Thank you. Keep them coming.**


	7. Nothing goes as planned

His finger ran over the map on the hood of Carol's Jeep. "Alright," Rick started. "These are the area we need to cover. In addition to Daryl on horseback, we are gonna split into three teams."

Connor's eyes fell on Andrea who immediately rolled her eyes. "I'll take Murphy if it's all the same to you," she said to Rick. Their fearless leader would have thought more about that statement if he didn't already know about the overprotective nature that Connor had in regards to the blonde. He just nodded and paid little mind to the pissed off look on Conn's face. The man did it to himself.

"I'll go with Shane," Rick said, without a surprise. "T? You ok with Connor?"

T-dog nodded. "Yeah I'll try to keep him from worrying too much about you, Andrea."

With small snorts of humor through the group, the woman just nodded her thanks. Knowing their tasks, the group broke up after everyone picked up their weapons from Dale's RV.

"Whut kind o shit was dat?" Connor growled at Murphy as they grabbed their backpacks from their tent.

Murphy couldn't help but laugh at him. "You are an asshole."

"Juss keep yer eye on 'er," Connor countered.

His dark haired half yanked his bag closed and slung it over his shoulder. "Whut da fuck do ye tink'm gonna do out dere? Tie 'er to a feckin' tree and leave 'er fer ta fuckin walkers?"

Connor stared at him hard. "Now who's the asshole."

"Just back da feck off Conn," Murphy warned. "Andrea's more 'an made it clear she don't want ye lookin out fer 'er."

"After whut she did at t'CDC-"

Murphy abruptly turned toward him. "Juss stop. Maybe ye and Dale should start a feckin' support group." He grabbed his bag and headed to where Andrea was waiting for him. "Be safe, brother."

* * *

Glenn pushed the wheel barrel further out into the fields, along the tree lines, hunting for fallen firewood. At first he thought nothing of it, the faint smell of something rotten. Could be a walker. He kept his eye out in the woods trying to spot one coming. Then he heard the moaning. The closer he got to the barn, the louder it got. Oh God! Glenn held his breath and put his eye to a knot in one of the boards.

Oh God!

* * *

They walked in tense silence for the first 30 minutes or so, both of them lost in their own minds, though they were trying hard to pay attention for any signs of Sophia. Finally Murphy spoke, unable to take the uncomfortable silence any more. "Look about me brudder-"

Andrea turned her piercing eyes onto him. "Yeah what the fuck is his problem? I get that he is upset about Amy. I get that. But I am not my sister."

He rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. "He knows dat."

"Then what the fuck his lost puppy act for?" she started walking again, her eyes trained on the ground, looking for sign that the girl came through the area.

"Worrying is like breathin to Conn," Murphy admitted softly.

Andrea released an irritated noise. "Well he needs to stop."

"Aye, I know. I've told him that." He kicked at a branch on the ground. He was trying to defuse the situation between Connor and the blonde but it wasn't working. All he was doing was winding her up more.

"You need to tell him again, Murph. And it's really pissing me off."

"I can'a see that."

* * *

Murphy dropped his pack at his tent and unchambered the round in the Mossberg shotgun in his hands. He walked over to the RV. After handing both gun and ammo over to Dale for safe keeping, he headed over to where Lori was crouched over doing laundry.

She didn't even look up at him. "Connor told you."

"Ye expected him not ta?" The dark haired man crouched next to her, keeping their conversation to a whisper.

"Murph-" Lori's eyes flashed to his, hers almost black in the shadows of the trees they were sitting under.

He waved a hand. "Am not here to lecture ya lass. Am only here ta see if ye need anytin'."

* * *

Murphy signaled Maggie to come in the pharmacy after he determined it to be safe. She quietly entered, pulling the door shut behind her. "What are we looking for?" she asked softly. "Connor and I were just here yesterday."

He held up a list. "Lori ask fer a few things."

With a heavy sigh, Maggie stood in the middle of the pharmacy with her hands on her hips. "What are we after now? Queenie break a nail? Get her period?"

Murphy just looked at the paper in his hand. "Am not ev'n sure what dis is." He pointed to the top of the list Lori had handed him. "Any ideas?"

"You have to be fucking kiddin' me," Maggie growled, her hand slapping at the paper.

He was confused. His eyes flicked from her to the paper and back again. "Whut?"

"Nothing. I'll get it." She huffed over to the counter, slammed her hand on the wall, grumbling to herself as she went.

Murphy wasn't sure what the hell just happened, but he went through the aisles looking for the other things on the list. He had most of it when he heard Maggie scream. Dropping everything from his hands, he pulled a gun and tried to get a bead on the walker that had a hold of Maggie through the racks. But it was too far behind the shelves, and was moving. He couldn't get a clear shot.

"Feck. Maggie!"

He ran towards the counter, jumping over it, hoping he wasn't too late, hoping she had not been scratched or bit yet. He couldn't handle taking care of her if she had been. Not another familiar face.

"Murphy!"

He shot the creature in the arm, making it release her hand. But it snarled and came after him instead. Maggie moved behind him, grabbing at his shirt. Murphy wrapped his hand around her wrist, reassuring himself that she was ok as he took aim at the creature's head. As it dropped, and the sound of the silencer echoed through the building, he turned and gathered Maggie into his embrace.

"Ye ok, girl?" he asked, his voice soft and harsh, his breathing heavy. He felt her nod against him, as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Sure?" Her only answer was a sob. Murphy put a hand against the back of her neck and cradled her to him. "Yer fine. I got ye."

His eyes searched the rest of the building from where he stood. It was his understanding that where there was one walker, there were usually more. And he didn't hear of any coming after her and Connor when they came the other day. He put the gun away, his other arm snaking around her waist as he moved them gently around, trying to make sure they were really alone. "C'mon, girl. Yer fine. Ye bit? Scratched?" please don't be scratched or bit.

She pulled back with a huff, wiping at her tears. "You want to check?" she countered, harshly. Maggie waved her arms at him, her shirt had no sleeves, the cut of the shirt showing off her breathtaking shoulders.

"Not what I said, lass." Murphy reached one hand out to cup her cheek, drawing her back into rational thought. "Did ye get what Lori wanted?" She bit her lip and nodded, her eyes closing, unshed tears sliding over her cheeks. "Shall we get out o here 'fer we get more company?"

* * *

"We got you your lotion, your conditioner, and oh your abortion pills."

Murphy stood behind Maggie, his mouth open as she threw each item she listed at Lori, her voice surely carrying throughout the camp. "Can you keep it down?" Lori asked the younger woman. "Please."

"Next time you want something send your own husband," Maggie growled before walking away.

Holy mother of God, Murphy mentally crossed himself. Lori sent them after abortion pills? He should have really paid better attention to what she was asking for. He had thought it was something to do with the baby, something to help the baby, to help her. Not something to help her commit a mortal sin.

"Lori, sweetheart," he said softly, looking at her fingering the bag that held the pills. "Ye don't want to be doing dat." He extended a hand for the bag, but Lori yanked it out of his reach.

"Fuck off, Murphy." She backed away from him, tucking the bag behind her.

Murphy matched her step for step. "Can't really do da, now can I?"

Lori struggled to keep her voice down, even, to not draw any more attention to them. "It's not your damn business."

He pointed a finger at her. "Sendin' me af'er 'em, made it me business."

"I can't bring another child into this world." The fucking tears were back pooling just above her lashes, threatening to fall, threatening to break his heart again. She was going to kill him.

He reached a hand out for Lori, not reaching for her arm, or hand, but for her cheek. "Know yer afraid," he said softly.

Lori glared at him and pulled away. "You don't know shit." She stormed to her tent.

He followed her, watching her flick back the open door. She flopped down into a chair, the pills still tucked in the back of her pants. "Yer not alone, Lori. We'll all help ye," Murphy assured her, settling on the cooler that served as a chair at the Grimes' makeshift breakfast nook.

She put her elbows on the table and ducked her head into her hands, look up at him. "Look what happened to Carl."

"N by the grace o' God Almighty, he's gonna be fine. N ye have been blessed wit 'nother child," he asserted, putting his hand on her arm.

Her lower lip quivered, as she closed her eyes, turning her face from him. "I can't do it."

"Ya, ya ye can." He leaned forward, tucking his free arm under his chin as he watched her. "Give me da pills, luv," he insisted softly again.

She shook her head, not opening her eyes. "It's not your decision to make."

He supposed not but surely a man like her husband could not be comfortable with this at all. "Ye talked ta Rick?"

Anger replaced sadness. She sat back and wiped at her face. "No."

"Lori, ye have ta. Tis his baby too."

She was silent. Fuck ,he thought, maybe it isn't Rick's.

She shook her head. "I can't talk to him...not now..."

Murphy stood up, walked toward her. "Regardless, I can't let ye do this. It'ill haunt ye fer ta rest of yer life."

Lori sat back, pressing the small of her back against the back of the chair. "Just go away, Murph."

"No," he said stubbornly. With a huff, she tried to push past him and out of the tent. "Not til ye listen ta reason, Lori." He grabbed her, keeping her in the tent.

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Murphy, you've taken lives. You and your brother admitted as much." She yanked her arm out of his grasp.

He put his hands up, showing he didn't mean her any harm. "Evil men, not innocent, unborn children."

Lori shook her head, and sat back down. "How does it not make me an evil person, bringing a child into this world?"

"Tis not da same. Can't compare ta two."

"It's my choice, Murphy."

"Not just yers," he reminded her.

"Sure as hell isn't yours, MacManus."

"Look," he said softly, running his hand through his hair. "Let's make a deal. Let me have ta pills. And when ye talk ta Rick and ye make yer decision, come let me know."

"Talk to me about what?" Rick's voice came from the doorway, making both of them turn to look at him. "What's going on?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Crystal blue eyes moved from Lori to Murphy and back again, waiting, impatiently for one of them to speak.

"If ye don't give em to me, I'll answer his question," Murphy threatened, putting his hand up-right on the table in front of her.

Lori narrowed her eyes. It wasn't an idle threat. "Fine." She yanked the bag from her pants but before she could put them in Murphy's hand, Rick snagged the bag. "Don't." Lori held her breath as she stood up, looking from the bag to her husband, to Murphy. Rick opened the bag and poured the pill packets into his hand. He looked at his wife's wide eyes, his eyes narrowing.

In the shocking silence of the tent, Murphy stood. The blue eyes never left Lori's as Murphy collected the packets and shoved them all back in the sack. Rolling the edge over, he tucked the pills into his back pocket as he walked out of the tent, leaving the couple to talk.

Murphy was headed to his tent, intent on getting rid of the pills before the Grimes's made a decision. However, he saw Maggie walking quickly towards the house, headed back from one of the outbuildings. He jogged quickly to catch up with her. "Maggie!" he called. She stopped to look at him, the anger still evident in her face.

"What?" She crossed her arms, sending him a hard look.

"You ok?" he asked softly, wanting to reach out to her again, to touch her, make sure she was ok. She had scared the shit out of him back at the pharmacy.

With a nod, she drug her eyes from his. "I'm fine."

"No, no yer not." He could practically see the steam rolling off of her.

"That bitch sent us out to get killed," Maggie growled. She stepped closer to Murphy, and pointed back toward the camp.

Murphy shook his head. There was always the chance of them getting attacked in this world now. "Was dat yer first interaction with a walker?" It dawned on him and he couldn't stop it from coming out of his mouth. The Greenes were so isolated out here. It's possible they had never encountered one. Was that possible? Were they that isolated?

"I wish you people would stop talking about them like they aren't people."

"Maggie, dat wasn't a person who attacked us in da pharmacy."

She stormed past him, headed for the stairs. "And I almost became one of them because of her and her… her…" Murphy pulled the pills out of his back pocket, stopping Maggie on the second step. "She gave them to you? Why did she want them so bad if she's just gonna give them to you?"

"She didn't juss give em ta me." Murphy looked sheepish. "Tis my fault really," he confessed to her. "Ye should be mad at me, not Lori."

Maggie's scowl got deeper. She knew Lori and Murphy were close, but she didn't think they were anything more than friends, maybe she was wrong. "Its your bab–"

He shook his head, with a small laugh. "Dat's not me fault. But I didn't know what she was sending us fer."

Maggie relaxed a little, her eyes straying to the beads of his rosary visible at the side of his neck. She stepped down one step, so they were almost the same height. She hooked her finger under one of the beads. "So this isn't just for show?"

Murphy just pulled his bottom lip under his teeth and shook his head. "No, tis not."

Maggie nodded. "Thank you."

"What fer?" he asked.

"For saving me."

"It was nothing, luv. I'm just glad you weren't hurt." He reached a hand out and squeezed her hand, a small smile on his face. She answered in kind, her face visibly more relaxed than it had been.

"WALKER!"

* * *

It was well after dark, and Murphy was on watch. It had been a hell of a day all in all. They needed less of those, really.

He took stock. Sophia was still missing. Lori was pregnant, and didn't want to keep the baby. Maggie was attacked by walker when they went out on a pharmacy run for Lori. And then Andrea shot Daryl in the head. And that was after Daryl got thrown from a horse and injured. On the flip side, Daryl had found their first real hard evidence that Sophia was still out there. Also Carol, Maggie, Patricia and Beth cooked a fantastic meal for them all, a home cooked meal, with real plates, at a real table. For a man who was pretty much a bachelor, he was surprised how much he missed those things.

Murphy heard soft footsteps coming up the ladder on the RV, cutting into his thoughts. He was pretty sure that it was a woman but it did not sound like Andrea or Lori, or even Carol. He looked back over his shoulder and saw Maggie's short bob come up over the edge. Surprised, he smiled at her and waved from the chair, wondering what she was up to. It was very late. Maybe she just couldn't sleep.

Eyes never leaving his, Maggie walked towards him. She came to stand next to him, not saying anything as she placed her hand on his shoulder. She moved one leg over his legs as he set the rifle to the side, grabbing her hips and guiding her in his lap. She looked down at him, their eyes boring into each other's. Carefully, delicately as if she would hurt him, Maggie rested just her fingertips on his lower jaw she leaned in to kiss him, her eyes half closed, her lips half open. Murphy's mouth was soft under hers, his lips pliant and warm, letting her set the pace, letting her be in control.

* * *

**AN: Thanks to Annelisa for her guidance, assistance and general hand holding. It is very appreciated.**

**Please leave me a review and let me know what you think, good bad or indifferent. I live for reviews.**


	8. Mice and Men

**Italics are flashbacks to what Connor was up to during the last chapter. **

* * *

Herschel stormed into the camp, heading straight for Rick. "We have a problem," he said, jerking his head for Rick to follow him.

"What's going on, Herschel? One of my people do something wrong?" Rick rose from the table where they were planning their daily hunt for Sophia and followed. Shane and the MacManus brothers were not far behind.

"I'd say." The older man walked quickly towards the old barn at the back of the property. The doors were thrown open and Patricia and Beth were hugging each other to the side of the opening.

The smell hit Rick before he got within 30 yards of the barn and made him want to throw up. It slowed the other men up as well.

They walked up to the opening to find roughly a dozen dead walkers laying on the ground in the barn. "What is the meaning of this?" Hershel growled, sweeping his arm, indicating the mess.

Rick was at a loss and stared at the horrors in front of him. He tried to make sense of it but nothing came to mind. "None of my people would have put dead walkers in your barn."

"Could they have gotten trapped?" Shane suggested.

Hershel shook his head. "These are our people," he said vehemently. "Or rather were our people." Tears pooled in the old man's eyes.

"Herschel, I don't understand." Rick was confused. "These things are your people?" Behind him, Murphy stared hard at his brother, a silent conversation passing between their blue eyes.

The old man strode over and got in Rick's face, making Shane's fingers itch for a gun. "These things are my family. My wife, my step son, and our neighbors."

"Why would you keep them in a barn? They aren't those people anymore," Rick insisted. "They are dangerous."

Hershel's eyes welled up. "It's no different than any other plague that hit mankind since the beginning of time. Eventually we will find a cure."

Rick ran his hand over his face, his other hand on his hip. "No. No we won't. We came from the CDC, Hershel. It's gone, leveled."

The older man's face fell. "Surely someone else is working on it."

Rick just shook his head. "There's no one else. Anywhere."

Shane stepped forward, using his expert people skills to change the subject. "Why do you assume it's one of our people?"

Hershel couldn't believe his ears. "You think a rogue SWAT team came in the middle of the night and did this?"

* * *

_Connor slapped T-dog on the shoulder as the two of them parted ways after coming back to the camp. They had not found any sign of Sophia. Connor prayed that someone else had more luck than they did. As much as he hated to admit it, Shane's blathering about them wasting time was really starting to make sense. But all Connor had to do was look at Carol's haunted eyes and know they had to go back out there, had to continue looking. _

_He opened the tent flap and tossed his bag through the door. He started to go after it when he heard footsteps behind him. Connor straightened back up and looked at Glenn's nervous as fuck face. "What's going on?"_

_The younger man shifted in place, and then took his hat off, running his hands through his hair. "Connor, man," Glenn said softly, almost embarrassed that he needed to talk to the man. "We've got a problem."_

_"Is it Murph?"_

_"Ah no, he's fine. He went off on a run to the pharmacy with Maggie."_

_"Another one?"_

_Glenn nodded. "Yeah." He stood there wringing his hands._

_"Well what's the problem?"_

_"Come with me."_

_Connor didn't question the man, just did as he was bade. He followed him over toward the old barn. He heard the noises and smelled the stench. And he knew before Glenn motioned to the knothole in the wood what he was going to look at. _

_"Fuck," Connor muttered a bit too loudly. He whipped the walkers in the barn up into a frenzy. _

_"What do we do?" Glenn whined, his voice going up. "What do we do?"_

_Connor waved a hand at the younger man, his eyes unfocused, his thoughts elsewhere "Just let me think."_

* * *

"Maggie," Murphy warned, reaching for her as she walked by him. "Don't."

She batted away his hands, and moved towards the barn. "Daddy?" she sounded fearful. Her eyes were on the bodies. "Oh god, what happened?"

* * *

_Leaving Glenn to stand nonchalantly against the side of the RV, Connor headed up the stairs in search of the bag of guns. He wasn't sure where Dale had them hidden, but with the old man and Andrea on the roof of the RV he had to be quiet. The bag was on the table, a Mossberg shotgun laying on the seat next to it. Turned out to be an easier hunt than he thought it was going to be. _

_Opening the bag, he dug through it, searching for his guns. He found them quick enough and tucked them into the back of his pants, pulling his shirt down. Rezipping the bag, he headed out of the RV. Without a word Glenn fell into step with him. The two men headed back to the barn. _

_Connor started up the ladder outside the hay loft. "Keep an eye out for anyone. Distract them if you have to til I am done."_

_Glenn nodded and watched the man climb up, his shirt gapping, showing the guns tucked against the small of his back. _

_It was dark in the barn, the only light was that which was coming through the cracks between the planks. It was barely enough for Connor to see by. He half wished he had grabbed another clip out of the bag. He figured there were roughly a dozen walkers down there; he hoped his 30 rounds would do the job. Taking his time, he shot them one by one, through the head, the telltale ringing of the silencer loud to his ears in the barn. He only missed once, and soon the floor was littered with bodies of the dead undead. _

_Taking a deep calming breath, Connor stopped himself, and waited. He waited in case one was hiding in the shadows. He did not want to miss any. After a few minutes he was satisfied his job was done, and he headed back down the ladder. Glenn looked at him with apprehension as they started back toward camp. "What's the matter?" Connor asked, a grin on his face, looking quite pleased with himself._

_Glenn wrung his hands again. "Don't you think we should talk to Rick? Tell him there were walkers in the barn? Who knows what else Hershel could be hiding?"_

_The smile on Connor's face faltered for a minute. "I'll talk to him."_

_Glenn brightened at that. "Ok."_

_Looking toward the house, Connor saw his brother talking to the eldest of Herschel's daughters, Maggie. They were having an intense conversation about something. He wasn't about to interrupt. He had to get the guns back in the bag before someone noticed they were missing. Especially when Murphy was still wearing his from his run to the pharmacy. _

_"WALKER!" Andrea's voice rang through the camp, making Connor sprint towards the RV, Glenn behind him. _

_Rick busted out of his tent, a gun in hand, and met Connor and Murphy. "Leave it to us Andrea," Connor yelled, pulling a gun from his pants hoping it wasn't the one that he just emptied in the barn. Touching his hand to the barrel he realized it was the fully loaded one, this one was cool to the touch. The three men ran towards the walker, and were joined by Shane and T-dog. It was like a bad joke, Connor thought to himself. How many men did it take to kill one walker? Apparently 5 was the correct answer. _

_As they got closer to the walker, who appeared to be dragging something behind him, something leaving a wide path through the grass, Rick held up his hand and the other men came to a halt watching Grimes lift his Python. _

_"Daryl?" Murphy asked, drawing his own gun. Connor looked the walker over again and saw the signs Murphy was seeing, but also noted the signs that this wasn't the Daryl they knew. _

_"Who the fuck else would I be?" Daryl snapped, making the gun wielding group in front of him visibly exhale and relax._

_"Scared the shit out of us, you asshole," Connor laughed as a rifle shot echoed across the field and they watched Daryl crumple to the ground. _

_"NO!" Rick yelled as Connor and Murphy raced to Daryl's side, checking him. Connor found the wound in his side while Murphy noticed the graze across his forehead. _

_"Lucky fucking bastard," Murphy exhaled, as Connor's hand rested on Daryl's chest feeling the steady rise and fall._

* * *

Rick and Shane stood talking in hushed tones with Connor and Murphy. It didn't take much for the two cops to figure out the only reason no one heard that many shots fired so close to camp was the use of guns with silencers. Now truthfully anyone could have access the guns, but it was not likely anyone would have dared touch them.

"What the hell were you two thinking?" Rick demanded.

Connor tried to reason with him. "Nothing besides protecting the group."

Rick snorted. "Well good job on that. Now Hershel is probably ready to kick us out, kick us away from the only security, food and medical care we have had since the world ended."

* * *

_"Sit your ass down Murphy," Connor commanded from the couch, watching his twin pace back and forth in front of the door to the room that was quickly becoming Hershel's most used room in the house. "He will be fine."_

_"How is he?" Andrea asked, breathlessly, coming through the door. _

_Murphy just shook his head. "Nothing yet. What the fuck were you doing up there, Andrea? Don't you even know how to use a fucking gun properly?"_

_Connor got to his feet and stood in front of his brother. "Leave her be. She was-"_

_"She was what? Being a stupid bitch who shouldn't be trusted with anything more than fucking matchstick."_

_Andrea's eyes glistened with unshed tears but she strode forward and got between the brothers. "I was trying to protect the camp." She said unapologetically. "I didn't know it was Daryl."_

_"That's why that fucking gun has a scope."_

_She set her jaw and didn't back down. "The sun was shining through it."_

_"Then you, maybe, let the 5 people who are going out to take care of it to take care of it. You don't just take a Hail Mary shot." Connor reached for his brother as he got in the woman's face. "If you didn't have a fucking clean shot, you could have hit any one of us. You did realize that while you were trying to impress whoever the fuck you were trying to impress right? Fucking cunt."_

_Shane came through the door just in time to grab Andrea and yank her back before she took a swing at Murphy. "C'mon, outside. Let's go," Shane growled, pulling her through the door. He wasn't exactly sure Murphy wouldn't take a swing at a woman especially at one who swung first. _

* * *

Rick rubbed his hand over his face, and grimaced. "Why didn't you come talk to me first, Connor? That's the part I'm having a hard time with."

The fairer twin shook his head. "I didn't think about it. I didn't think it much further than protecting everyone."

"Shit," Rick cussed, hands on his hips. "We were already on thin ice with Herschel."

Murphy nodded his head. "Yeah but you told him it was hopeless for them to hang onto their people. You told him how dangerous it was to have them. Conn was only looking out for the group."

Rick paused for a second, looking hard at Connor. "Wait. It was just you?"

"Aye," Murphy continued. "I was off trying not to get bit at the pharmacy picking up your wife's-" he stopped and looked at Shane, then back at Rick. "supplies."

Rick closed his eyes, and let out a harsh breath. He needed to lay all of his cards on the table, but he couldn't. Not like this. He needed to focus on the matter at hand, Connor's rash actions. Rick did not condone the actions the man took, if he was not in the leader of the group, he probably would have reacted similarly. And he was grateful to Connor, and Murphy as well, for protecting his family when he couldn't himself.

But how could Rick ignore Connor's blatant disrespect of the chain of command in the group? To do so would throw what little balance of power Rick had left out the window. But really that power was an illusion. He had no way of forcing any of his people to do anything. The only option he had was to throw the boys out of the group, let them go off and fend for themselves. And truthfully that would be more harm to the group than to the twins. Outside of Daryl, those two would survive just fine on their own.

And shit, there was Daryl. If Rick kicked the MacManus brothers from the group, more than likely Dixon would go with them. That would be 3 guns gone, three men that were an integral part of the group.

"What do we do Rick?" Shane asked, breaking him from his thoughts.

He shook his head and rubbed tiredly at his eyes. "We help them with the bodies. We bury their family. And we pray Herschel will find it in his heart to let us stay."

* * *

_Dinner had been a quiet tense affair. Connor ate as quickly as possible without insulting Carol, Lori and the women from Greene's group. He needed to get out of the house, the tension was getting to him almost as much as Glenn's pointed looks from the 'kids' table were. _

_"Thank you, ladies," he muttered, clearing his place. He squeezed Carol's shoulder on his way to the kitchen. Depositing his plate on the counter, he let himself out the back door, and really wished for a cigarette as his face hit the cool night air. He hadn't wanted one in a while, and the urge was sudden and surprising._

_Sighing, he walked back to his tent, going to lay down while he waiting for Murphy to get done with dinner. He needed to talk to him about the barn. Needed to figure out what the next move was. He needed to talk to Rick, and probably Shane too. But first he needed to talk to Murphy. _

_Connor woke up, rubbing his eyes. Crap what time was it? He hadn't meant to fall asleep. He was just laying down waiting for Murphy to come back from dinner. Camp was too quiet. Fuck. He looked towards Murphy's bedding and found it empty. He groaned as he sat up, rubbing his eyes again. Murph had first watch tonight, didn't he?_

_Emerging from their tent, Connor saw his brother's shadow sitting in the chair on top of the RV. But he wasn't alone, he realized, as he watched a shadow that had to be Maggie climb into Murphy's lap. With a smirk and a shake of his head, Connor turned and headed back into the tent, figuring he would talk to Murphy tomorrow. _

* * *

"Oh, Christ," Connor cursed, crossing himself as he looked down at the little body Murphy and T-dog had just revealed by moving the walker in a housecoat. Connor fell to his knees, his head spinning, the back of his wrist pressed to his mouth. "No." he whispered, tears welling up in his eyes. "God, no."

"Brother?" Daryl called from the entrance of the barn. Slapping Murphy on the shoulder, Daryl jogged over to Connor. "Ya 'rite?"

Connor reached out with a gloved hand and pushed the dirty sandy blonde hair from the small face. He heard the sharp intake of breath as Daryl recognized Sophia. "Jesus wept," Murphy muttered from where he stood behind Connor.

* * *

"...in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Amen," Connor said softly, his hand on the RV's door handle. Daryl squeezed his shoulder. With a nod and a grim smile, he opened the door and walked up the stairs, Daryl behind him. He didn't have to look far to find Carol. She looked up at them from the table where she was repairing someone's shirt. Looked like T-Dog's favorite.

Connor sat down across from the mother, and reached to take the mending from her hands. He set it aside, as Daryl leaned against the sink, his eyes trained on Connor's hands.

Carol had been holding the tears at bay since she saw the two men coming across the yard. She had hoped and prayed they were not headed for the RV. Surely the two of them were off to go do something else. They were not coming to see her, and tell her they found her girl. This was not how this was supposed to go.

As Connor reached for her hands, Carol started to sob. Her chin fell to her chest and great heaves of breath escaped her. "No, please no."

"I am sorry Carol."

"She was one of them?" she croaked. "My baby."

Connor's hands tightened around hers, as she tried to pull them away from him. "I am so sorry."

* * *

Herschel walked past the fresh graves, his eyes never leaving Rick's. "You and your people will be off of my land by sundown in 2 days." He turned and headed back to the house, his hand in Beth's, not leaving any room for discussion.

* * *

**A/N: So much for following the show's storyline. Thank you to Annelisa for expert hand holding and for bringing me up short when I throw in OOC crap and decide to ignore important plot lines. Also thank you to Little Miss Tightly Wound for keeping me on track with the MacManus Brothers. **

**Please take a moment to leave me a review. I'd love to hear what you think, good or bad or indifferent. **


	9. Goodbye

Maggie stood on the porch, her hand wrapped around the pole at the top of the stairs. She leaned the front of her thighs against the railing. Her eyes looked out over the small camp amongst the trees in the fading light of dusk. She watched the group of people go about their various tasks, an uneasiness sweeping through them all as they avoided looking at the house.

Maggie watched Murphy walk across the camp from the RV over to his tent. She didn't mean to stare at him, she just couldn't help herself. She couldn't deny she was attracted to him, what woman wouldn't be. But really two bouts of sex an established relationship did not make. After being attacked by the walker in the pharmacy, she had sought him out that night, to find comfort, just a little comfort that was so hard to find any more. And now her dad was throwing the group off their property after what his brother did to their family.

Murphy gave her a small sad smile before ducking into the tent he shared with Connor. Her eyes floated from their tent to the others in the camp. Loading up bags in the RV, and the Jeep, the group seemed like a small camp of ants.

Last she heard from them, the plan was to be fully packed up except for their tents by tomorrow evening. Then after a cold breakfast, they would break everything else down and head out. And Maggie would be sad to see them all go. She had grown attached to them. Well some of them.

Maggie should go inside. She should go see if her father needed her. If Beth or Jimmy needed her. If Patricia needed her. But she stayed rooted in her spot until the light faded from the sky.

* * *

The hushed argument from within the Grimes' tent turned heads of anyone who walked by. Carol ushered Carl over to the cooking area, to help her gather up everything and put it in the RV.

"You have to do something!"

"What would you have me do, Lori? The man made up his mind."

"We can't leave. We just can't. This is the safest place we have been!"

"And now we will have to find another one."

Lori's voice was desperate. "You aren't going to even talk to him?"

"And say what exactly? Sorry one of my men killed your family?" Rick sounded frustrated and tired.

"They were already dead. Connor did them all a favor."

"But that's not how Hershel sees it now is it?"

* * *

Rick was loading bags in the back of the jeep when Murphy and Connor approached him. He smiled at them and sat down on the tailgate.

"Rick, we've been thinking," Connor started. "Maybe if we left, then Hershel will let the rest of you stay."

"Can't ask you boys to do that," he insisted.

Murphy shook his head. "You don't have to ask us to. We can do that for the good of the group."

"How would the group benefit from you leaving?" Rick had already determined that kicking the twins from the group was not a good option. And he highly doubted that they were about to say something that would change his mind. But he knew they needed to make this offer. They had to for their own peace of mind.

"You could stay here, with Herschel. That outweighs any benefit we bring to the group."

"I wouldn't go that far."

Connor sighed. "You need a man like Hershel. You need medical assistance. We can't give you that, he can."

Rick stood up and slammed the tailgate shut. "No, end of discussion. Am not giving you two up for anything."

* * *

"Walker!"

Daryl's voice echoed through the camp the next morning, bringing everyone out of their tents as  
quickly as possible. Every man in camp emerged half-dressed, grabbing for the melee weapons they kept handy, since Hershel's no gun rule was still in effect.

"Can you get a shot?" Rick called up to Daryl.

"He will do no such thing," Herschel bellowed from the porch.

"You have to be kidding us!" Shane ran his hand over his shorn hair.

The old man walked down the stairs, his family spilling onto the porch. "Is this the face of someone telling a joke?"

"Herschel-"

"No Rick. No. C'mon Jimmy."

The teen age boy dropped Beth's hand and swallowed hard, following Hershel to the shed. The old man passed him a dog catcher pole.

"Rick, man," Shane pleaded.

"It's his property," Rick reminded him with a pinched look on his face.

"Think about your family."

Rick turned to look him dead in the eye. "I think about my family constantly. I would appreciate it if you didn't assume otherwise."

Jimmy and Hershel headed across the field, bent on capturing the creature that was walking across the field. The walker, a man, in tattered jeans missing half a shirt, saw Jimmy and Hershel coming toward him. He sniffed the air, and turned toward them. Jimmy walked a little faster just a little bit in front of Hershel, fiddling with his pole. The walker sped up and move toward them, excited to finally have found something to eat. As it approached them, Jimmy faltered with the pole, his hand slipping from the wire. Hershel quickly grabbed it from the kid's hands and caught it around the walker's neck.

"Go get the barn door, would ya Jimmy? Help me get John in there." John Tate was the owner of the local general store in town. He was a good man. He and his family lived a few miles up the road from Hershel's family and had for at least 20 years. He had two sons, a little younger than Beth. His and Hershel's wives had done PTA activities together when the kids were smaller.

Rick, Connor and Shane cautiously headed toward the barn, keeping their distance. They stayed behind the fence.

"I don't like this," Shane started.

"None of us do," Connor confirmed.

Rick nodded. "His choice. All we can do is protect our own. We will double watch. Post someone here tonight."

They watched as Hershel pushed the walker through the door. Jimmy closed one of the barn doors behind him. Once the old man had removed the wire from the walker's throat, he backed up into the sunlight. Jimmy quickly shut the door. But he had trouble fastening the chain between the two doors. As he struggled, a decaying hand pushed through the gap between the doors, grabbing the young man's forearm. Jimmy let out a horrible scream as the creature scratched him, before bringing his hand to its mouth.

"Jimmy!" Hershel yelled, grabbing the kid, pulling him backward, away from the doors that swung open. Jimmy and Hershel fell to the ground, and the walker came with them, chewing on the younger man's fingers, rotten teeth ripping the digits free from their sockets. Hershel scrambled for the pole, and tried to smack the creature away from Jimmy. But it didn't work.

"Daryl?" Rick called over his shoulder, as he and the other two men jumped over the gate, not taking the time to open it.

"Got 'em," the redneck replied, holding the scope up to his eye. But he didn't have it. He couldn't get a clear shot of the creature, not with Herschel and Jimmy in the way. "Fuck!" he swore, which sent Murphy scrambling down the ladder.

Connor shoved the pitch fork into the creature's lower back, pinning it to the ground. Rick and Shane grabbed Jimmy under the arms, pulling the sobbing man away. He cradled his hand to his chest as they pulled him free. Hershel laid on the ground, pole still clutched in his hand as he saw a blur run up to the group. Murphy held Rick's Python in his hand, aiming at the head to the thing that was struggling against the tines of the pitchfork Connor leaned on, the sickening noise of it wiggling hard enough to tear its own flesh from the pinch of iron.

A single shot stopped the struggling. The creature collapsed as its head exploded. The only noise was everyone's heavy breathing, and Jimmy's soft moans.

Rick reached down to help Herschel to his feet.

"Let's get him to the house," Herschel said softly, gesturing to Jimmy.

"Hersh-"

A single sharp look from the older man silenced Rick's protest. The scruffy former deputy nodded to Shane. Begrudgingly he reached down and helped the kid to his feet as Hershel pulled a hankie from his pocket and gave it to Jimmy.

"Wrap it up."

Shane, Rick and Hershel walked the young man back toward the house as the MacManus brothers headed for Daryl's truck, to move the body out to where they had burned the other bodies just yesterday.

Beth ran up to theme the foursome, her eyes falling to the bleeding wound. "Oh God, are you ok?"

Jimmy grimaced as Hershel put his hand on her shoulder. "Let us get him patched up, Bethie."

* * *

Hershel was not surprised to find Rick standing at the front windows in the living room when he opened the door separating the "sick" room from the rest of the house. The leader of the Atlanta group turned to look at the sad tired eyes of the Greene patriarch.

"How is he?"

The veterinarian wiped his hands on the towel he held. "As comfortable as I can make him."

Rick cut straight to the heart of the matter. "It won't be pleasant."

"I know. I watched it before." Hershel threw the towel over his shoulder.

"What do you want to do?"

Hershel sighed. "About what?"

"About him turning."

Hershel gestured for the other man to follow him into the dining room, out of Jimmy's earshot. "Rick, we could be days from that."

"Or hours.

"He hasn't lost that much blood," the older man insisted. "He's not in any danger right now."

"But it's in him." Herschel just walked towards the kitchen, Rick close behind him. "I wanna post two people, one on either door to the room."

"No."

"No?"

"No. There will be no guns in my house."

"Fine, we have men who are just as adept with knives as they are with guns."

"Rick, no."

"Hershel, think about your girls, about your family."

"Jimmy is my family. My responsibility."

Rick ran a hand over his face. "Can you at least agree that when the time comes, we do it right?"

"You mean put him down? He's not a horse with a broke leg, Rick."

"Of course not. That's not what I'm saying. If you want to let him go through the change-"

Fire flew from Hershel's eyes. "Want him to? I would rather chew my own arm off than to see another person I care about go through that."

"What then?"

"We make him comfortable. And we deal with it when the time comes."

"By taking him to the barn?"

"Don't you have a camp to pack up?"

Rick slammed his hand on the island, and sensing the man was done, headed back for the front door. Connor was standing on the porch, waiting on him. Rick quickly noted the man's guns were strapped under his arms.

"What's going on, boss?" The Irishman met him step by step as they headed for camp.

"Let's gather everyone up and talk."

Once everyone from the group had gathered around the campfire, with in ear shot of Andrea on top of the RV, Rick started trying to explain. He gave them the cliff notes version of what had transpired between him and Herschel in the house.

"So, what now?" Murphy asked.

Rick sighed. "Not much else we can do. We pack up and head out tomorrow, like we have been doing."

Lori huffed. "And leave them with that time bomb?"

"It's Hershel's call, Lori."

Shane crossed his arms. "So that's it?"

Rick nodded. "That's it. We will be ready to leave by dark tonight. And we will head out first light"

Everyone silently stared at him, as if he had some other form of wisdom to share with them. Rick just turned and headed towards his own tent, effectively ending the discussion.

His wife caught up with him, her jaw set. "I don't suppose you told him about-"

"At what point would you have suggested I tell him that Lori?

"How about now?"

"Shit Lori.

"Dad?" Carl called, walking up to them. "Jimmy gonna be ok?"

* * *

Later that afternoon, Dale headed for the house. Walking past where Connor and Shane stood at the base of the porch steps, he stepped inside the house, looking for Hershel when he heard a crash and a female scream come from the downstairs bedroom. Without a second thought, he popped the door open and found Beth struggling against Jimmy. A pale grey Jimmy who growled as he pulled her closer.

The blonde girl struggled but was losing ground fast, being tugged slowly toward the bed. Dale dashed to the other side, and grabbed at the man's arms, tugging them from the girl. "Leave her be!" he yelled.

Jimmy bit the forearm presented before him, sending a howl of pain from Dale's lips. Since a meal was thrust in front of his face, Jimmy released the girl, sending her sprawling to the floor. He sunk his teeth into Dale's neck, the man heaving a heavy cry.

The front door crashed and suddenly the room was filled with people. Murphy, Connor, Daryl, Hershel, and Shane gathered into the room. Without a second though, Daryl was on the bed, thrusting his hunting knife through Jimmy's eyeball, killing the creature in one swift movement. Dale collapsed to the floor with a harsh moan.

Murphy swept the petite blonde up off the floor, cradling her sobbing form to his chest as he  
moved her quickly out of the other door into the small hallway. Beth buried her head into his neck, an arm thrown over his shoulder as she curled into him. Just outside the door, Murphy dropped to his knees, the wall to his back, settling the girl in his lap, keeping her from being able to see the horror scene in the room.

"BETH!" Maggie screamed as she ran towards them. The girl sobbed harder as her older sister fell to the ground, reaching for Beth.

"She's alright," Murphy said, attempting to reassure both sisters as well as himself. Maggie ran her hands over her sister, searching for any marks. "C'mon sweetheart," Murphy muttered in Beth's ear. "Let your sister look you over. It'll make us all feel better."

Beth uncurled from him, but stayed in his lap. Murphy's arms dropped from her as she moved to face her sister. Maggie placed her hands on Beth's face. "He get you?" Tears flowed down her face, catching the little bit of light.

The younger girl shook her head. "He- he tried, but- but - Dale-" she broke off into sobs, burying her face in her hands. Murphy pulled her back against him, tucking her head under his chin. Maggie reached out to stroke back her sister's hair as Murphy settled her other hand into his grasp.

"Dale?" Connor called, rolling the man on his back, a hiss sounding from both of them. The old man just stared at him, dark eyes focusing on the blue eyes above him. Daryl looked down from his spot on the bed. "Fuck, Old Man."

Dale could only moan and blink. His hand reached up, the tips of his fingers barely brushing against one of the Berettas strapped to Connor's side. The young man mournfully nodded.

"Son," Hershel started.

"Out," was all Connor said as he pulled the gun free.

Not arguing, everyone else cleared the room but Daryl. Daryl got off the bed, and stood just behind Connor, his eyes never leaving the old man.

_And Shepherds we shall be_  
_For thee, my Lord, for thee._  
_Power hath descended forth from Thy hand_  
_Our feet may swiftly carry out Thy commands._  
_So we shall flow a river forth to Thee_  
_And teeming with souls shall it ever be._  
_In Nomeni Patri Et Fili Spiritus Sancti._

Murphy heard the familiar cadence of the prayer through the open door, and softly joined his brother, his hold on the Greene girls tightening as he realized what must be happening in the other room. The pop-ring of the silencer confirmed it for him. Both Maggie and Beth jumped and cried out.

"It's over. It is over," he assured them.


	10. Surprise Guest Star

Opening his eyes, Murphy squinted into the sunlight streaming through the window next to the bed. It had been so long since he slept in a bed. Despite all that happened yesterday, he hadn't felt this rested since the world ended.

He deposited a kiss on the blonde head snuggled against him as he glanced to the empty pillow on the far side of the girl. Murphy half wondered what time it was and how well Maggie had slept once they got Beth to settle down last night. She blamed herself as much as her dad for the attack on her sister. She felt she should have backed up Rick when her dad dismissed him.

Murphy slipped out of bed before pulling the blanket back over Beth, letting her sleep a little longer. She muttered in her sleep and buried her face into his pillow. Murphy grinned at her before heading out the open door of her bedroom. He walked down the hall, stopping in the doorway of her older sister's room.

Maggie was dressed, sitting on her bed, brushing her hair when he raised his hand to softly knock on the door frame. She looked up at him and grinned.

"Hey," she said, rising from her bed.

"Hey." Murphy walked to her, settling his hands on her hips. Ducking his head, he captured her lips with his. "Mornin'."

"Mornin'." Maggie wrapped her arms around his waist. "She ok?"

Murphy just smiled softly and nodded.

"How'd you sleep?"

"Good," he admitted. "You?"

"Eh," Maggie shrugged.

Murphy cupped one of her cheeks, as she closed her eyes, leaning into his comforting touch. "You ok?"

She nodded and opened her eyes. "Just too much running through my head."

"Something you want to talk about?"

Maggie closed her eyes and shook her head. She rested her cheek against his neck, her nose sitting just settling above the hollow in his throat. "I almost lost my sister," she said softly, as his arms tightened around her.

Murphy pressed his cheek to her hair and softly nodded. "Aye. But we got her out of there."

"Barely but not without Dale-" her voice cracked and faltered. "And I lost-" her throat tightened so hard her voice was cut off.

Murphy thought he knew a fair amount about women. But he was never very sure what to do with a crying one. He pulled Maggie closer and settled on her bed. He drew her down with him, cradling her against him as he laid across the mattress.

He wanted to tell her it would all be ok. But how did you tell someone that when they just lost half their family? Between Connor's rash actions and now Herschel's stupidity, Maggie had almost lost just about everyone who was dear to her. And in this world now, loss was always going to outweigh gain. Always.

* * *

T-dog, Glenn and Daryl worked in compatible silence, their shovels digging in the earth the only sounds. The three didn't think they would be digging more graves so soon, too soon. Two more to be added to the makeshift cemetery on the far side of the barn.

Murphy approached with a bucket filled with cool well water. He set it on the ground by the closest tree and moved to help Daryl who was working on a grave alone. The gruff man just nodded his thanks as he hopped out of the hole and went to get a drink.

Daryl wiped the sweat from his eyes as he reached for the dipper. The cool water streamed down his throat as some trickled over his chin, falling on the front of his shirt. He scanned the world around him, taking in all he could while he stood there.

Camp was quieter than it had been the past day or so. Herschel had given them a reprieve in packing up, until they could get Dale and Jimmy laid to rest. Carol and Lori were working at the table together, presumably for lunch.

Shane, Rick and Connor stood at the hood of Carol's jeep, discussing, rehashing, figuring, whatever the fuck the three of them fuckin' did in their hushed tones.

Maggie stepped off of the porch and headed over towards where the men were working. Daryl made his way back over to the hole Murphy was in. He crouched on the lip of the grave and slapped the younger man on the back of his head. When Murph sent him a drop dead stare over his shoulder, Daryl pointed at the woman headed their way. "Your girl."

"Subtle, Daryl," Murphy griped.

The older man scowled at him as he dropped down in the hole. "Like it's a big fuckin' secret you are screwin' the farmer's daughter." Both T and Glenn stopped in their tracks and stared at Murphy.

"Not so much now."

Maggie's eyes moved over the landscape, clearly searching for something. She wasn't looking for him, Murphy realized quickly. She stopped between the two holes. "Mornin," she said to the men, though her eyes swept over the fields behind them.

There was a round of "Mornin'," from the men as they continued their work.

"Have you seen my dad?"

The three of the heads looked up from the shovels. "No," Glenn said as everyone else shook their heads.

"Last I saw him was last night before I went to bed," Maggie said almost absently, trying hard to not look at Murphy.

* * *

No one saw hide nor hair of the oldest member of their group through the rest of the day. Once they laid Jimmy and Dale to rest, Rick, Shane, Daryl, and Murphy joined Maggie, Beth, and Patricia on the porch.

"Any ideas?" Rick asked.

Maggie sat in the rocking chair, her hands twisting in her lap. "I have exhausted them all," she swore.

As Shane opened his mouth, Beth leapt forward, running to the porch railing pushing between Daryl and Murphy who were leaned there. Everyone turned to see Hershel's Suburban coming up the driveway, almost hesitantly. As the vehicle got closer though, it was clear it wasn't the old man driving, it was someone else. Rick and Murphy were the first down the stairs, both fingering their guns but not pulling them. Yet.

Rick could see Herschel slumped in the passenger seat as the young man driving put the SUV into park. He heard the others coming down the stairs, as he crossed in front of the vehicle and pulled open the door.

"Herschel?" he asked reaching for the old man, his gun drawn.

Murphy yanked open the driver's door and trained his gun on the kid in the driver's seat. The kid threw his hands up in the air. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Old Man here tried to run me over," he began to explain as Hershel groaned.

It didn't take a field sobriety test to realize the Greene patriarch was drunk. Rick looked over to see Connor a few steps behind Murphy, keeping an eye on their visitor. "Glenn, Shane!" he called out. "Let's get Herschel inside."

"He ok?" Beth called.

Rick nodded. "Just tired," he assured her as Shane slid the man from the passenger seat.

"Tired my ass. Old man is drunk off his ass," the driver called.

Murphy grabbed the kid's shirt and yanked him from the car. "The girl didn't need to know that, now did she?" he growled, pushing the man back against the side of SUV. He held him by the throat, not tight, just enough to keep him in place.

"Look man," the kid stuttered. "I didn't mean anything by it, alright?"

"Shut it," Connor snarled, not liking the looks of this kid at all. Greasy motherfucker. Hair in his eyes, bandana folded across his forehead, doing nothing but holding his eyebrows up. Baggy pants and a concert t-shirt. Dude looked like he was off to a fucking rock show, not trying to survive during the end of the world.

The kid learned fast and kept his mouth shut. Rick waited until Glenn and Shane had Herschel in the house, Beth, Patricia and Maggie close behind them before coming over to see about their new visitor. Although he clearly was not needed Daryl joined the small group of men, as curious as they were, who the hell this kid was and what he wanted?

"You wanna tell us what happened?" Rick said slowly, his cop voice replaced by his this-side-of-pissed-off voice.

The young man put his hands up, and tried to shift his position but Murphy's hand just tightened around his throat. "Ok ok!" he exclaimed. "I was walking along the road just outside of that town back there." His hand gestured towards the general direction of town. "And Old Man-"

"Herschel," Murphy corrected him harshly, with a jerk.

"Fine, Herschel tried to run over my ass. Dude then asked me to take him home."

Rick looked at him hard. "And you knew how to get here?"

The man's hands motioned toward the house. "Poppy told me how to find it. It's a fucking straight run."

Both Murphy and Connor had to give him that. They had both been to town, and although they didn't take the roads, they knew how simple it was. Rick looked at them and watching Connor nod in agreement. Rick caught Murphy's eye and motioned for him to let the kid go.

"You got a name?"

"Josh," the young man said. "But you can call me Scud. Everybody does."

Daryl made a face, like he was just kissed by a drag queen with a mouth full of lemons. What kind of fucking name was Scud? Some sort of pussy name if you asked him.

"Where were you headed?" Grimes asked him.

Scud simply shrugged. "Wherever."

"You alone?" Daryl asked. A pansy ass kid like this could not have survived for long on his own. He surely had to have had help.

"It look like I got anyone else in my back pocket?" Scud asked harshly. "Or maybe in my backpack?" He motioned toward the back of the Suburban.

Daryl didn't like the tone this kid took with him and stepped forward, wedging between Murphy and Scud. "Maybe I should just put an arrow in your ass for being a smart mouth."

"Dixon," Rick warned.

"What, Grimes?" Daryl growled. "I don't like the looks of him. He smells off."

"I'm not the only one," Scud said, turning up his nose with a grimace.

Daryl's fist connected with that nose, and he grinned as a satisfying crunch sounded. "Fucker," he cursed as the kid fell to the ground.

"Hey! Hey!" Maggie called, pushing her way through the group of testosterone, kneeling by the new man. "He brought Daddy back. And this is how you treat him?" What the hell was wrong with these men?

Murphy reached for Maggie's arm, which she jerked out of his grip. "Mag-"

"Don't, Murphy," she warned. She reached out to touch Scud's hand cupped around his bleeding nose. "C'mon. Let's get you cleaned up and get you something to eat."

"Maggie," Rick started. "We don't-"

The eldest daughter just shot him a cold look and put her arm around Scud's waist, walking him to the house. She was not about to let any of them hurt this kid any more than they had. No, they didn't know much about the kid, but what about treating others as they wanted to be treated? If her dad had treated Rick and his son the way they were treating this Scud, Carl would be dead. They didn't have a lot of room to talk about trusting strangers when their group expected it of those on the Greene farm when they all showed up.

The screen door slammed, jarring them all. "What the fuck was that?" Daryl asked. "Maggie now calling the shots?"

Rick sighed harshly and ran his hand through his hair. He didn't know what he should be doing.

Connor peered into the windows of the vehicle. He came around to the back, and yanked open the door. Putting his gun back under his arm, he hauled an overstuffed backpack out, and carried it to the table. The other men pushed everything else to the side as he opened the bag.

Within 5 minutes, they had unstuffed the whole pack. They did not find much of interest in the bag. Some food, water, camping equipment which didn't look like it had been used in a while. The only weapon they found was a knife, as well as a half a box of .22 ammo. Murphy ventured back to the suburban and found a rifle in poor condition. He brought it back over to the others.

Daryl set his crossbow against a tree and reached for the gun. He pulled back the bolt and looked at the rust in the chamber. "How the fuck is this prick still alive?"

* * *

_A/N: Yup, I blatantly stole a line from Blade II. The way Scud said it in the movie made it seem like that's pretty much how responded to everyone who asked his name. _

_Thanks to Annelisa for her unerring support, and handholding! If you havent checked out her story A Possum Tale, you may want to go find it. It is getting better and better with each chapter. _


	11. Walk in the Park

"How the fuck do you get two sisters?" Connor muttered as they walked to their tent after the brief memorial service for Dale and Jimmy. As the group had gathered, Connor noted Maggie reaching for his brother's hand, which was not surprising. Beth seeking comfort from Murphy as well was the surprising part. She wrapped her arms around him tight, giving him little choice but to put an arm around her.

"It's not like that," Murphy blushed. He knew his brother was going to give him a hard time about that. He had no interest in the younger Greene girl but it seemed she might have found an interest in him. And Murphy had no idea how to let the girl down easy.

It had been a long time since Connor saw his brother blush. He shot the other man a questioning glance, an eyebrow high on his forehead. "What is it like then?"

* * *

"What are we going to do about Studly?" Shane asked, circling around Rick before he reached his tent.

The leader was waiting for this 'surprise' attack from his second in command. Just wasn't expecting it so soon after the funeral services. "What would you like to do about him Shane?"

"I don't trust him."

_And the rest of us welcomed him with open arms,_ Rick thought uncharitable. "None of us do, man. None of us do."

"Then maybe we should-" the darker man's voice faded off as his he looked at Rick sheepishly, his hands twitching around his hat.

Rick brushed by him, and headed into his tent. "What? Shane, what?"

Following, Shane ran his hands through his hair. "I don't know. Get him to talk somehow."

"How?" Rick asked, his voice telling just how tired he was, how exhausted he was with this whole situation. He didn't trust this Scud any more than anyone else did but the kid did bring Herschel back safely yesterday. So far outside of a little innocent flirting with a few of the women, he hadn't done much of anything to irritate anyone. He set up his tent in the group, and kept to himself for the most part. Scud was annoyed they had ripped apart his bag while Maggie had fed him but did not protest too much when Rick added his gun to the arsenal in their care. Scud had eyed the guns that hung under the MacManus brothers' arms, but decided it was better to not argue. "The kid doesn't look like hes gonna fall for intimidation or idle threats."

"Then we don't administer idle threats," Shane said simply, too easily.

Rick's hard eyes turn on him. "You can't be serious." He did not like the fact that the Greene family was insistent that Scud stay with them but he didn't want to make any more waves by having Shane beat the kid up.

The other man just shrugged. "You have something better?"

"No, Shane." Rick flopped down on the side of the cot he and Lori shared. "We will come up with something else. Maybe try talking to him. You know? Make conversation."

Shane scowled, and ran his hand over his short hair.

"Why don't you show him how to clean his gun?"

"Seriously?"

Rick shrugged. "Either that or let Daryl continue to rearrange his face."

Shane snorted. "I like the second option."

"I don't." Rick rose from the bed and brushed by him, headed back out. "You want to do something about it, try it my way."

"Fuck." Realizing the debate was over, Shane stormed from the tent. He found the kid sitting by his tent. The smaller man was chewing on the side of his thumb and looked up at Shane with hesitation and a hint of trepidation as he came to stand by him. Shane yanked his hat from his head and looked out past the tent. "Look kid," he tried to keep his anger at Rick out of this conversation but it was damn hard to do. "I have to clean a few of the weapons. If you want, I can show you how to take care of your gun."

"Is that a pickup line they teach you at police academy?" Scud joked, humor not quite reaching his tone.

Shane stared at him hard. "Look, Shitstain, take it or leave it. When else are you going to run into someone who is gonna be able to show you how to clean it? You are lucky it fires as it stands now."

Scud nodded absently, and continued to chew on his finger, contemplating Shane's offer.

* * *

Maggie wrapped her arms around Murphy in the middle of the kitchen. He kissed the top of her head. They broke apart at the sound of Herschel's footsteps coming toward them like two teenagers. As the older man entered the room, Murphy just nodded. "Sir." He reached for the back door and slipped out.

Herschel looked at his daughter with an unwavering gaze. "They are still leaving, Maggie."

"Why are you being so hard? After all that has happened," she tried to keep her voice calm. Getting angry with her dad was not going to solve anything. "Don't you think that having them here would benefit us more than letting them go?"

Hershel's face colored as his hand hit the island. "You have seen what they have done to our home since they have been here. How can you ask me that?" He knew the Irishman was clouding his daughter's view of things but how could she just ignore what he and his brother had done since being on the farm?

"What have they done that's so horrible to throw them out in the cold?"

"They destroyed our family!" Herschel knew what he was saying was falling on deaf ears. She, like he, had made up her mind and there was going to be little to change it.

"They killed walkers who were already dead, Dad," Maggie tried to reason with him.

"They were our family."

"They were dead. Why won't you see that?"

Herschel was silent. It was all a moot point right now. None of those people would ever come back. Not now. Not after what the boys had done. Herschel still wasn't sure what he thought about these walkers. He wasn't sure what to make of it all. Maybe he was a fool.

Maggie took her father's silence as a sign he was not relenting. "I want Murphy to stay," she admitted to her dad, her green eyes hard as they met his.

"Maggie," his tone turned admonishing, almost ashamed.

She pushed hair over her ear, and stared at him. "I'm not a little girl anymore."

"But if he stays his brother will -"

Maggie nodded unapologetically. She knew very well that demanding that Murphy stay would mean Connor and probably Daryl would stay with them, splintering the Atlanta survivors. "Yes, he will." Truthfully she hoped that asking for Murphy to stay will make her father finally reconsider this stupid ultimatum of his.

Herschel ran a hand over his head. "Maggie, look. It'll pass. It's just a crush."

"Just a crush, Dad?" She shook her head. "I'm not 12. I know what I feel."

Herschel said the first thing that came to his mind, and didn't filter it. "It's just the sex talking."

Both father and daughter blushed brightly at that statement. Maggie looked down at her hands laying flat on the island. "He saved me, you know," she tried softly. "From one of those things in the pharmacy."

Herschel looked up at her. "What? What happened? When?"

"When we went for supplies for Lori." How long ago was that? It seemed like a month or more though it couldn't be any more than a week. "So much happened that day, the day Daryl came back injured. And so much has happened since, I didn't have the time."

Her dad was silent, unsure what to say to this. How did he not know what was going on with his own family? What else was he missing? He was so wrapped in his own head, his own baggage.

Maggie paused and looked up at her dad. "Do you even know Lori is pregnant?"

Herschel paled even more, shocked by that announcement. "What?"

Maggie nodded. "She is. And she's scared Dad. She's so scared she asked me and Murphy to pick up morning after pills for her."

"And you got them for her?"

"We did." Maggie admitted. Herschel couldn't believe what he was hearing. "But Murphy talked her out of using them."

"Why not her husband? Are she and Murphy-"

"Dad! No." Maggie took a deep breath and fought to bring her eyes up to her dad's, tears on the brink of falling. "Look. Don't make me choose, Dad."

"What are you saying?" Herschel blinked back his own tears. "You would leave with that boy if I kick them free?"

Maggie bit her lip, as her watery eyes seemed to quiver. She nodded once, closing her eyes.

"You can't be serious." Herschel insisted, moving to stand by his eldest daughter. He reached a hand out, and brushed against her arm. "You would just leave me and your sister to go with him? You don't know anything about him."

Maggie's face twisted into a humorless smile, and pulled away from her dad. "I know he has done more to protect me and Beth this past week than you have," she growled out, before stalking from the room, heading for the door, leaving her dad with those heavy words to chew on.

* * *

It was just about dusk when Herschel stepped out on the porch, looking over at the camp as they settled in for their evening meal. "Bethie," he called through the screen door. His youngest girl came out, pushing her blonde hair back behind her ears. "Can you go tell Rick I'd like to talk to him when he is done with dinner?"

Beth looked at him and smiled softly before running down the stairs. She headed over to the camp, her eyes searching for their leader. He was standing by the door of his tent, talking to Shane.

"Hey, Mr. Grimes," she called softly, twisting a lock of hair between fingers on both hands.

"Hi, honey," Rick smiled at her.

She returned it with her own shy smile. "Daddy wants to talk to you when you are done with dinner."

Rick looked up at Herschel standing on the porch and nodded at the older man, before reaching a hand out to touch the girl's shoulder. "Tell him I'll be in as soon as I can."

Beth smiled and headed back toward the house. However she did not take a direct route to the house, she swerved through the group, her eyes actively searching for someone. She found him, over by Lori and Carol.

"Hey Murphy," she said softly as she walked by.

"Hey," he said, looking up from the plate in his hand. The pretty blond immediately blushed at his smile. She waved three fingers at him before skipping into a run for the house.

"Looks like Murphy's got himself a new girlfriend," came a teasing sing-song voice from behind him.

"Shut it, Lori," he growled, as she and Carol tried to keep from giggling. "I'm already getting it from me brother."

She pursed her lips. "Well then," she started, her voice going from teasing to downright dirty. "I can see why you wouldn't need anything from Beth then," she said, letting her gaze linger a little longer on Connor than normal.

Murphy threw a twig at her. "Bitch."

Lori pointed a finger at him. "That's Queen Bitch to you."

* * *

"Come in," Herschel called. Rick opened the door, stepping into the house. He looked around and headed to the sofa where the older man was sitting. He looked up from the book balanced on his knee. He turned the book over on the side table as he gestured for Rick to take a seat.

Hershel sipped at a glass of water. "I wanted to talk about the possibility of your group staying here on the farm."

Rick sat back in his chair. In all honesty, he did not have a clue what Herschel was going to talk to him about when he came up here. He certainly did not expect this. Rick sat back and tapped his long finger against his pursed lips, his elbow resting on the arm of the chair.

"I believe I acted rashly earlier this week when I asked your group to leave."

Asked? Rick's internal monolog scoffed. If thats how the man asked for things to be done, Rick was almost afraid to see what happened when he demanded. But he still did not say anything; he let Herschel have his say.

"I would like to invite you to stay until you are ready to leave," the white haired man continued, meeting Rick's eyes expectantly.

Grimes leaned forward and cracked a smile. He turned his head just slightly before answering. "I believe the group would be eternally grateful for that," he confessed. "I would be eternally grateful."

Herschel nodded and sat back. "Good. Also, I want to offer one of our spare bedrooms to you and your wife. We don't have enough room in the house for all of your people but I think at least your wife, in her condition, should have a bed to sleep in."

Rick looked at him with a questioning glance. "Maggie," herschel offered.

He should have guessed that. "Murphy." The dark haired MacManus brother knew that Lori was pregnant; it was only natural that his would-be girlfriend would know too.

Herschel nodded, and swallowed hard. "I imagine he will be moving into the house as well, with my daughter suddenly ignoring all of my rules."

Rick bit his bottom lip trying to hide a grin that threatened to spill out. "Can you blame them? Comfort isn't easy to find these days."

The old man nodded and exhaled harshly. His daughter's sex life was not something he wanted to discuss with anyone, least of all Rick. "What about this Josh kid?" Herschel asked, abruptly changing the subject.

Rick shrugged. "Shane got him to talk a bit this afternoon. Seems he got separated from another group. Not 100% certain if it was intentional on the part of the group or his. Shane's got a good bullshit reader. Doesn't seem to think the kid was out on his own for long. Picked up the piece of crap gun in some house he ran across." Rick paused. "I don't know. I don't like throwing people out to fend for themselves. He's just one more mouth to feed. Could be one more person to help out."

Herschel nodded. "You taking responsibility for him then?"

Grimes grinned. There was the Herschel he knew. "Yeah. We will. I will," he corrected. "He screws up, I will take care of it."

Sensing the conversation was at an end, Rick stood and offered his hand to Herschel. "Thank you, sir. I will see to it that you will not regret this decision."

"Thank you."

Rick stood to go to the door. He paused with his hand on the door knob. "Hey Herschel, can I ask what changed your mind?"

"My daughter, Maggie. She is powerfully persuasive when she wants to be."

Rick smiled. "I'll have to give her my thanks when I see her again." He nodded and walked out the door. Trying to school his face into a calm look, Rick headed to the camp. He moved over towards one specific tent. Rick walked up to Murphy, and stuck his hand out. "Good job."

Murphy looked at him questioningly, but took his hand. "What are you-"

The bearded man shook his head, a wide smile on his face. "C'mon. I have something to tell the group." He clapped his hand on the younger man's shoulder and guided him over to the fire.

* * *

_A/N: Unbelievably huge thank you to Annelisa for her expert hand holding, editting, and assistance. I had given this story up for dead while working on the last chapter. She pushed me to finish that chapter and this one (and chapter 12 as well) came alot easier. _


	12. One Big Unhappy Family

The group of survivors from Atlanta were all in a good mood, sitting around the fire. The news that Herschel had relented, letting them stay in a semi-permanent capacity had swept through the group like a wildfire, spreading warmth, and general levity. It was the best news they had had in a long time. Everyone, including Carl, sat around the fire. Even Patricia, Maggie and Beth made appearances. Herschel had come out and wished everyone a good night before going to bed, ushering Beth to bed for the night.

Maggie sat between Murphy and Daryl on a log, her hand on the younger man's thigh, his arm around her shoulder, as the group shared a bottle of Southern Comfort that someone had squirreled away in their bags. They even gave Andrea a small slug off the bottle even though she was on watch.

Scud sat back and watched the group, trying to find where he fit in. T-dog and Glenn did their best to bring him into the conversation, and even Connor threw a smile or two in his direction. He was grateful the group let him into their folds. He wasn't on his own for very long but long enough to realize how fucking hard it was in this world without people to help you out. He had forgotten about that. He had hooked up with the last group so quickly after the zombies started to show, Scud didn't have a real good perspective of how dangerous the world had become. Two days on his own though gave him a real eye opening, he thought to himself as he drained his cup.

This group seemed to have it together and he was actually glad the old man tried to run him over. Who knows what would have happened to him if Hershel hadn't picked him up? Walkers could have gotten him. Or worse.

Carl was asleep slumped against his mom, who cradled him against her. Lori's head was propped on Rick's shoulder, both of them were having a hard time keeping their eyes open. Carol and Daryl were propped against each other, slumped together in a quiet conversation, with wide grins, a flush on both of their faces that could have come from the contents of their cups, the fire or each other. Connor was bent across Murphy, talking to Maggie who laughed at whatever he had to stay. And Shane took a long draw out of the bottle in his hand, his eyes focused on the flames of the fire.

"Shit!"

Andrea's voice wafted down through the soft murmur of the group. "What?" Shane was the first one up. Everyone's eyes trained on Andrea. She pointed out past the barn.

"Herd!"

Everyone jumped up from around the fire and moved so the flames were at their backs, their eyes not used to the dark as well as Andrea's were.

"How many?" Rick called, as Shane started tossing out guns to all willing hands.

Andrea hesitated, eyes searching the horizon. "Too many."

"House?" Murphy suggested, handing one of his guns to Maggie as he took a shot gun from Shane.

Daryl shook his head as he stepped out from under the trees and looked at the dark mass moving toward them. "Too fucking many," he echoed Andrea's earlier sentiment. Rick and Connor moved to stand next to him. And they finally saw the horror that was bearing down on them. The dark mass was moving around the barn, the structure shaking with their movement, the vibrations being felt under their boots.

* * *

Less than 15 minutes later, Beth sat between Maggie and Connor on the bench seat of the truck. She was tucked in her sister's embrace as Murphy sped off away from the farm. Each thump of a dead body against the blue truck made Beth whimper and cry harder. She buried herself into her sister's arms, and felt one of Connor's hands on the back of her head as he looked out the window.

"Daddy," Beth wailed.

"He's gone, baby. He's gone." Maggie whispered even though Beth knew.

_Beth had just drifted off to sleep, felt like she had barely closed her eyes and suddenly she heard heavy footsteps running up the stairs. Her door popped open, and Murphy rushed in._

_"Get up, girl," he commanded. "Get some clothes on fast."_

_"What's going on Murph?"_

_"We've gotta go now." He moved back to the doorway as Beth raced for a pair of jeans and pulled on a sweatshirt. She slipped her feet into a pair of flip flops. As she struggled to put the sweatshirt on, he looked her over. "Grab your barn boots on the way out the door," he told her grabbing her hand._

_They rushed into the hallway where they met up with her dad and sister._

_"What's going on?" Beth demanded, as Murphy dragged her down the stairs._

_"Walkers, Bethie," her dad told her._

_She froze at the bottom of the stairs and Murphy tried to pull her along. She looked out the window and saw the dead bodies walking by her home, the house she grew up in. "We don't have time Beth," Murphy had yelled, shoving her boots into her chest. "C'mon!" He jerked her arm, tugging on her pulling her._

_Maggie grabbed her elbow and pushed her out the door behind Murphy. Her dad appeared beside them with a shotgun in his hand. Suddenly Murphy's warm hand was gone from around hers as he brought the shotgun up to his shoulder. "Hold onto me!" he yelled at her as he dropped a walker coming up the stairs._

_Beth clamped her hand on the back of his belt, her fingers curling tight around the leather. Maggie stood by his side effectively shielding Beth as she fired one of his guns. Beth kept her face down, hidden behind them, her eyes closed._

_She heard Maggie and Murphy talking, and calling out to her dad but Beth didn't register a thing they were saying. She was petrified. When Murphy began moving down the stairs he almost jerked her arm out of the socket because she stayed right where she was._

_A horrible, familiar scream filled her ears just before the screeching of tires sounded in front of them. Beth looked over Maggie's shoulder to see Patricia standing at the front of the blue truck, swarmed, fighting to stay upright. Beth let go of Murphy and stared at the horrors surrounding her friend, the woman who was like a second mother to her._

_Connor watched Murphy push Maggie toward Daryl's truck, the truck they had loaded some of their belongings in before Herschel had relented and let them stay. Conn reached out and grabbed Beth's hand, dragging her with him. He turned back as she cried out, her hand reaching for the drowning woman._

_"Patricia!"_

_Connor whirled around the young blond and pointed his gun at Patricia's head. Without a second thought, he pulled the trigger and then focused on the walker on her arm while pushing Beth behind him._

_The deafening sound of a shotgun blast jerked both Connor and Beth around. Herschel stood on the stairs and had dropped a walker as it reached for Beth._

_"Go!" the old man yelled at them, as the wave came up the stairs headed for him._

_Beth watched with wide eyes as the bodies massed around her dad._

_"No!" she cried. Beth started back towards her father, who fired repeatedly at the creatures around him. He smashed several in the face when he could no longer fire._

_Connor grabbed her about the waist, dragging her to him, carrying her towards the truck. "Maggie!" he called for help as he reached the truck. He handed the girl up to her sister in the truck, pushing them both across the bench seat as he climbed in beside them._

_"Let's go Murph!"_

_Maggie tucked Beth's head into her chest as she watched Murphy raise his Barretta and aim for her dad. She closed her eyes, cradled Beth against her chest, and leaned into Connor._

* * *

T-dog drove at full speed, down the road outside of the farm, his only destination was away from the masses of bodies behind them. Once his truck was filled with people, he didn't even think twice about sticking around.

Finally Glenn spoke up from where he was wedged between the big man and Scud. "Where are we going?"

"Who cares, man? " Scud asked, nervously. "Who the fuck cares?"

_That was entirely too fucking close for Scud's liking. Shane had tossed him his freshly cleaned .22. He was suddenly glad he had taken the grumpy bastards offer to show him how to take care of the gun. If only they worked on a little target practice while they were at it. Scud ran for his tent, grabbed up a few important items before falling in with the rest if the group. Once Maggie and Murphy took off for the house and the walkers started appearing in the camp, shit got serious. He watched as Daryl took off at a dead run for his camp. Never would have pegged him for a chicken, Scud thought. He changed his tune as Daryl killed a half a dozen walkers that met him on his path to his camp with his hunting knife._

_"Dude's hard core," Scud muttered as he shouldered his gun, aiming for a walker headed right for him. He fired once, hitting the things shoulder. And it kept coming._

_"The head!" Glenn screeched beside him. "The head!"_

_Adjusting his aim, Scud managed to take out several walkers as he chased behind Glenn, hoping the kid was gonna lead him somewhere safe._

_A woman's scream reared them around. Carol was backed against a tree, walkers closing in on her and fast. Scud didn't even think twice as he started knocking them on the head, knowing firing that close to Carol was going to end badly. Once he dropped enough of them to make a hole, he grabbed for her, dragging her out and with him. She clung to his shirt as he killed a few more._

_A lone light pierced through the darkness. Scud felt more than heard the noise the light made. Daryl throttled his bike through the masses and pulled up alongside of them._

_Against his base instinct to hop on himself, Scud put Carol's hand into Daryl's pushing her onto the bike. She didn't even hesitate, and in a split second they were gone._

_"Well shit," Scud muttered to himself as he looked for a way out of the horde._

* * *

Carl lay across the back seat of the Cherokee, his head on his mom's lap. His tears fell, soaking the leg of her jeans.

Lori ran her hand through her son's hair while absently looking out the windshield. "I know, baby. I know," she whispered, tugging the shirt Carl was using as a blanket over him for the hundredth time. "Try to sleep," she muttered watching the two men who stood at the front of the vehicle squabble. She couldn't hear their voices but she knew generally what they were fighting about, finding the others.

"We can't just ride back in there," Shane insisted.

Rick curled the hand on the hood of the car into a fist. "We can't just leave them either. Hope for the best?"

"I saw at least 2 vehicles get out of there."

"A truck and Daryl's bike isn't enough to carry everyone," Rick maintained.

* * *

Carol woke up with a start. She couldn't breathe and she fought for air. She thrashed out at the warm walls around her. She felt an arm tighten across her back as she heard a small grunt and whine from behind her. The arm shook her as a rough voice sounded in her ear, whispering in her ear. "It's ok. We are safe."

Carol fought to take a deep breath as the arm around her loosened and the hand patted her back. "You're fine," the brogue in her ear told her. She nodded and pressed her face into Connor's neck, seeking comfort from a place she had never been before. It was odd to sleep in a man's arms it was something that Ed never did. If he had, she doubted it would have felt as comforting as his young man's embrace.

She hadn't fallen asleep in Connor's arms, but she had wound up there. When they settled down to try to sleep earlier, Maggie was sandwiched between Murphy and Beth, the three of them squished as close as they could get. Carol lay down facing away from them, giving them a semblance of privacy as Connor had spread out next to her on his back.

When she woke again, Connor was gone, but had been replaced by a faded, smelly flannel shirt. Carol didn't even have to let her eyes focus on the back in front of her to know who laid there. Daryl. She watched his breathing, soft, even and she took comfort in that as she moved closer to him, tightening her arm around his middle.

**Safe**. She was safe.


	13. Rain Rain Go Away!

When Carol woke again, she found herself back to back with Beth, a semi-clean flannel shirt tossed over the two of them. Stretching, she sat up, tucking the shirt around the snoozing girl.

It was barely daylight, but it looked like the rest of their group had been up for a while. Murphy was sitting on the roof of the cab, the appointed watch spot. Connor was scraping up grass and weeds in an almost circular pattern. By the look of the pile of rocks and wood near him, he was more than likely building a fire ring. Must mean there was some food somewhere in one of the bags that were piled just behind the back window of the truck.

Carol slid herself to the tailgate, and hopped down to the ground. Running her hands through her short hair, she walked over to where Connor was. "Need a hand?" she asked.

She was rewarded with that sweet half-smile of his, the corner of his mouth sending two cute little laugh lines out in its wake. "Mornin'," he said. "You sleep ok?"

The older woman crouched down, reaching for some of the larger, more angular rocks in the pile. "I did. And thank you for that."

"T'wern't nothin', lass," he said, joining her on the ground, settling on the opposite side of the ring. "It's been awhile since I had a pretty girl in my arms."

Carol looked up at him with a small noncommittal smile. With the tone in his voice, she almost expected him to flutter his eyelashes. He couldn't turn it off any more than she could turn off breathing, and she knew not to take it as anything more than Connor being friendly. Carol knew the young man didn't have any interest in an old broad like her. Anymore than his twin, who was currently watching Maggie from atop the cab of the truck, did. "You're almost as bad as Murphy."

Connor cocked an eyebrow at her. "My little brother been makin' passes at you, too? No wonder Daryl's panties're in a twist."

Carol sucked in a small breath as she tried to not let the blush creep up her cheeks. She was unsure how to take Connor's comment on the state of Daryl's undergarments. She would be lying if she didn't notice a shift in the gruff man's attitude toward her since Sophia went missing. But what it all meant she did not know. Daryl tossed out so many different signals it was hard for her to sort through them all. She wanted to think there was some sort of something building between them but she was unsure if it was anything more than her wishful imagination misreading a struggling friendship.

Carol's eyes focused on the rocks that worked into a fire ring roughly 18-inches in diameter. "So what's for breakfast?" she asked, watching Maggie walk over to the truck, reaching for one of the bags. Carol wanted to take what Connor said as a clue that she wasn't misinterpreting Daryl's actions, that there was something there, but she also wasn't so naive to think that Connor wasn't just teasing her to get a rise out of her.

"Not entirely sure. Daryl squirreled away our food," he said with a smirk.

She closed her eyes and shook her head. "That was horrible."

Connor stood and wiped his hands on his jeans. "Yeah, but I got ya to laugh; that should count for something."

Maggie returned with a couple of cans of beans in her hands, and an military-issued can opener fastened with a set of dog tags. "Best we got, but no pots." She made a small face.

Carol reached to take them all from the younger woman. "That's the least of our worries," she said, then turned to Connor with an open hand. "Knife?"

With a smile, Connor lifted his right foot, and extracted a slim 4-inch double-edge from the inside of his boot. He placed the handle in her palm.

"Thanks," she grinned at him, then made quick work of the labels, while Connor set to building a fire.

Without a word, she handed the knife and labels to him. He gave her a nod and a knowing smile, then tore the labels up a little, leaving them with roughened edges, that would be easy to catch fire, and stuffed them under the tinder at the bottom of the small pile of wood.

Carol used the small military can opener to make two small slits in the lid on opposite sides of each can. She then slipped the dog tags over her head; she didn't want to lose them. She sat back to watch Connor continue his work on the small fire. Reaching up she fingered the tags and looked down at them, actually reading what was on them. "Dixon" read the first line, with "Merle D." just below that. Seemed the man had A positive blood and was a Protestant. Or actually has A positive blood and is a Protestant if Daryl's gut was right in thinking his older brother was still alive.

Once the flames started up, Carol stood and headed over to the bags in the back of the truck, reaching for the one that Maggie had grabbed the beans from. She dug through the cans, boxes and bags. There at the bottom was what she was looking for, a couple of old beat up kitchen towels. They would do the trick. She grabbed them, plus a couple of spoons, and headed back over towards the fire.

She smiled up at Murphy and was pleased to have it returned before the man's eyes flicked back to where Maggie was sitting by the fire. Carol's smile widened. They were an adorable couple and she was happy they had found each other. This world was so hard even before it went to the dead. It kept a little hope left in her heart that love was still out there and was still possible, even though she had been shown so much to the contrary.

It wasn't much longer that they had to wait for the fire to burn down to create decent coals perfect for cooking the beans. Carol quickly pushed the cans into the fire and sat back to watch them. A lump plopped down beside her. She glanced over and saw Beth rubbing sleep out of her eyes. Carol put her arm around the girl, tucking her head under her chin. They didn't say anything as they stared at the fire. Carol couldn't think of a thing to say to the girl, even though loss was something she was well versed in by now.

* * *

A tall broad man walked out of the tent at the far reaches of the campsite, clear across the yard from the farm house. It was the only tent the walkers didn't take down.

"What did you find?" the Hispanic man with him asked.

The older man pursed his lips and tucked something in his pocket. "Naw. Nothing much. You find something?"

The first man threw the oversize backpack that Scud had been carrying to the ground. "Looks like he was here."

"He any of the bodies?" the leader asked, his hand indicating the mess that littered the ground.

The dark haired man shook his head. "None that we could find."

"Fuck! This kid wasn't supposed to be so hard to kill."

"What do we do now, el jefe ? There's at least four sets of tire tracks leading away from here."

The older man tugged at his whiskered chin. "We follow the motorcycle," he said.

"How can you be sure the kid's on the bike, Merle?"

_Cuz my baby brother better be the one driving my bike or I'll kill the prick who is_. "I don't but that will be the easiest one to follow." He squinted at the dark clouds gathering above the tree line. They needed to move and move soon.

* * *

It was early afternoon when Daryl silently trudged back up to the truck, catching Maggie and Beth by surprise.

"No sign of any of 'em," he told Connor, who was sitting on the roof of the cab, on watch.

Daryl had walked back to the highway, less than a mile from where they sat parked in the open field. He checked on the spot where they left stuff for Sophia, thinking that maybe the others would also think that was a logical spot meet up with everyone.

"Where the hell could they have gone?" Murphy asked.

"Greater question is how long do we sit here and wait," Connor stated.

Daryl shrugged out of his stuffed pack. He put it down on the open tailgate of the truck and started pulling what might have appeared to have been random stuff with no rhyme or reason. He yanked out bottles of water, canned goods and other non-perishable foods, some clothes, mostly warm jackets and the like. All of the stuff was spread out on the tailgate for all to view. He did, however, set bottles of Southern Comfort, Jose and Jack off to one side. It wasn't that he wasn't willing to share them, he just didn't think right then was the best time.

Maggie fingered some of the supplies. "Guess we give it another day?" she suggested.

"Then where do we go look?" Murphy asked, looking more at Daryl than at Maggie.

Dixon shrugged his shoulders. "Guess we go back to the farm, tomorrow," he said, purposely avoiding looking at either of the Greene daughters. "See who didn't make it, then go from there."

For all they knew, no one else but the six of them had made it, and if that was the case, they needed to start making other plans rather than sitting still in a field, where they were basically sitting ducks.

Carol walked over to the other side of Daryl, and settled her foot on the bumper, placing her hand on his shoulder as she levered herself up into the bed of the truck. She sorted the stuff he brought into logical piles, then started opening bags, looking for where to put them all. She caught Daryl watching her, making her color. She ducked her head, embarrassed to have drawn his attention away from everyone else. She wasn't used to such stoic scrutiny, constant but quiet and easy attention. With Ed, it was far from quiet or easy. Carol never had to question what Ed was thinking; he laid it on the table for her to see, and across her cheek, back and chest.

With Daryl, it may be a comforting attention but she did not know what all it meant. She had no idea what he was thinking. He just stared at her from behind his perfect wall with those piercing blue eyes. She could try to read his mind but so far that had failed as well.

Daryl quickly looked away from Carol's reddening cheeks, but his eyes shifted back to her gaze, his own cheeks coloring slightly. Wondering what that meant, Carol grinned as she reached for some of the canned goods, busying herself with getting everything he gathered tucked away safely. She scolded herself for getting so damn flustered at just the merest grin from Daryl, as if she was 15-years-old. Even when she was fifteen, she didn't ever remember being this flummoxed by a man.

Sighing deeply, she reached for more canned goods blindly and jumped when one was thrust into her hand abruptly. She turned to see Daryl passing one to her, his other hand on another in the pile.

"Thanks," she replied softly, the 's' catching in her throat as his skin brushed against hers, the slight catch against her skin. As the electricity shot up her hand and arm, Carol glanced at his finger briefly, realizing the callus was one that was built up to protect his hands against the tension of the string of his bow. How many times had he drawn the string back to the catch on his bow? As proficient as he was with that thing, it was probably too many times to even fathom. How many bolts flew through the air with pinpoint precision?

Carol was not exactly sure why those thoughts were so... arousing. She felt her cheeks burn brighter as she thought it, but there was no other word for what she felt. The flash of warmth that spread through her lower stomach, the light headedness, a down right purr that sat in her throat, wanting to escape... there was no other word for it. It wasn't a feeling she was used to having with her husband but she did have it with another woman, once. Back before Ed came into her life, back before the difficulties of their marriage, back before Sophia.

She sighed at the thoughts of Susan. Carol had not thought of Susan in such a long time. It made her grin a little wider as Daryl passed her a can of ravioli as the memories of her childhood friend and first lover flooded her mind. Being next door neighbors and only a year apart, she and Susan were inseparable when they were younger, even into high school. Wherever you saw one you would see the other. They held each other's hand, kept each other's secrets, and told each other everything.

It was around Carol's junior year of high school that things changed between them. She could never pinpoint the when or the why things changed but they did. Carol wasn't even sure who was the one who made the first move. Maybe one of them was curious, or something but they went from giggling in her bedroom about something stupid that had happened in the hallway to kissing. It wasn't long before what seemed like kissing shifted into petting. And petting turned into something neither one of them wanted to back away from. They were 16, and hormones ran rampant through their bodies.

"Ya ok, Carol?"

Daryl's voice broke through her haze of memories, dragging her back from her teenage bedroom, back from inside her former best friend's panties, back to the apocalypse. Carol huffed uncomfortably as she looked back at Daryl handing her the last can, a can of mandarin oranges. "Who takes mandarin oranges with them at the end of the world?" she wondered out loud, trying to deflect a little attention away from her burning face.

He just shrugged, his eyes roaming over her flushed face, her burning eyes, her bottom lip tucked under her teeth and the wistful look. He wondered where she went for those few moments, and why she went there. It had little to do with their supply of canned fruits.

Once the foodstuffs were packed, Carol started to zip up the bag. "Oh, wait," she said softly, almost to herself, then reached around her neck and began removing the dog tags she was wearing.

Daryl watched her reverently pull them out. He didn't even question whose they were, he could tell by the way the bottom tag was bent from where Merle got them slammed in a door in basic. Without a second thought, he reached out and caught her elbow. Carol turned and looked at him with wide eyes.

"Keep 'em," he said gruffly.

She looked confused, not sure what he said. Or more to the point not sure what he meant by it. They were his brother's dog tags. Surely he wanted them where he left them. "What?"

He sighed. The woman was dense sometimes. Putting it back in the bag would get them lost, dropped or they would just disappear. Daryl would rather they be around her neck cuz then she would keep tabs on them. Carol wouldn't let anything happen to them.

* * *

"Hey, lookie what I found" Martinez called. He walked towards the black truck with a gun pointed at the side of a woman.

"Well hi there Sugartits!" Merle called. "So nice of you to join us!"

"Merle?" she asked, not believing what she was seeing.

"Darlin' you look like you've seen a ghost."

"I just might be," Andrea admitted.

* * *

The rain hit just before the sun started to set. What started out as a light shower turned quickly into a downpour. Maggie, Carol, Beth and the twins, quickly piled into the three man tent that the Greene sisters had been set up earlier that day near the front left front end of the truck, leaving Daryl to sit on the cab of the truck in the driving rain.

No one really relished the thought of sleeping in the bed of the truck, squished together like sardines, for another night. So instead they were going to be squished in a nylon tent. Once the five of them stumbled into the tent, shifting, trying to make room for everyone to stretch out, and be comfortable. As the wind started driving the rain against the side of the tent, Carol looked over at Connor. "Does Daryl at least have that ugly poncho?"

Before the young man could answer, Beth leaned forward. "Does it make a difference? He's gettin' more of a bath than he's prolly had in months."

"Hey!" Daryl barked. "'m right 'ere! 'N I ain't deaf."

* * *

_Thank you to Annelisa and Little Miss for hand holding and kicks in the ass to get this done. _

_Please leave me a review, and let me know what you think. Its what keeps me going!_


	14. Meanwhile Back At The Ranch

A hand thumped on the side of the tent, making all of the inhabitants jump. "Someone come watch," Daryl barked. "Carol ain't leaving my sight."

Maggie rolled her eyes and headed toward the door. "Don't know why I just couldn't go with her to pee."

"Cuz she's Carol," Connor offered as a way of explanation. Carol had tried to slip out of the tent to go pee without much notice. Figures Daryl would have seen her.

Maggie shrugged into the flannel shirt he offered her. She grabbed one of the shotguns from inside the door of the tent and yanked the door open.

Murphy got to his feet and followed her, ducking out into the rain. With a small yelp/giggle Maggie pulled open the passenger side of the truck and crawled in across the bench seat, Murphy right behind her.

Yanking the door closed behind him, he shook rain from his hair, his eyes closed. "Aren't you supposed to be on top of the cab, love?" he asked with a cheeky grin.

"I'm not sitting up there. No self-respecting walker is going to be out in this."

"Self-respecting walker?" he asked slowly, trying it on for size.

Maggie nodded and grinned at him. "Honestly would you rather be in that tent or in here?"

He couldn't argue with that sentiment. His eyes met hers, and with a raise of his eyebrows, she threw herself into his lap. Her fingers fisted into the front of his shirt, his hands dug under the shirt his brother gave her to wear out in the weather. He reached for her pulling her closer to him

"Murph," she muttered against his lips.

"Yeah."

"What are we doing?"

Murphy laughed softly, his hand gliding over her side, down over her stomach. With a small breath she held it, her body quaking already with the anticipation of where that broad hand was going. Tucking his fingers under the waistband of her shorts, he hooked his thumb along the side of the button opening and quickly popped it loose. The zipper parted under the persistent pressure of his wrist as his hand slid over her panties, cupping her through the warm cotton.

"Oh fuck," she muttered against his neck. Murphy's other hand slipped down her back side, grabbing the seat of her jeans and her panties and slowly tugged them down.

"Here?" Maggie asked in a loud whisper.

"You rather in the tent?"

Shaking her head, she arched her hips up, getting on her knees, and helped him pull her jeans loose. She reached for the belt buckle of his jeans. "How long is Carol going to take do you suppose?"

"Do we care?" he asked against her mouth, pulling her bottom lip between his teeth.

Maggie loosened the buckle on his jeans. Tugging them with his boxers down his legs, just far enough for her hand wrapped around his hardened length.

Murphy hooked his hand around her thigh before she could move and drug her over his lap, Maggie leaned back against the dashboard bowing her back, letting him arch up into her. She rotated her hips moving slowly over his cock. Pulling her hips roughly down with one hand, Murph reached a hand out to catch her neck, dragging her closer for a kiss. He gathered her bottom lip between his teeth, making her hiss, her hips jerking harder against him. Maggie wrapped one hand around his shoulder, the other over the back of the seat as she slowly rode him.

Without preamble, Murphy drew her out of his lap and kicked out of his jeans. Mouth over hers, he pushed her down on the seat, moving back between her thighs, thrusting up into her hard, as his hands held her hips tight. Maggie lifted her leg, letting her foot rest on the steering column, looking for leverage to move against him. Murphy's toes dug into the arm of the driver's door as his rhythm shifted, fucking into her with fast shallow thrust.

Maggie braced her hands against the door as Murphy pushed her shirt up. He yanked at one cup, exposing a breast to his mouth. As his tongue wrapped around a nipple, Maggie arched up from the seat, thrusting her chest into his mouth. The sensations coursed through her, a complete loop between his tongue and his cock. His fingers dug into the seat below her as he dove harder into her.

Daryl approached the truck, a puzzled look on his face. "Who the fuck is on watch?" he called into the tent. "What is wrong with you fucking people?"

"Murph and Maggie should be out there," Connor called, concern filling his voice. As the tent zipper opened, a palm slapped against the interior of the passenger window of the truck. Maggie's hand. It was then that Daryl noticed how steamed up the fucking windows were.

"Jesus H. Christ. What ta fuck is wrong wit 'em?"

"They defiling your truck?" Connor asked as he settled back inside the tent with Carol and Beth. It didn't take a genius to put all the pieces together.

"You tore it up first, motherfucker."

Connor waved the confused looks that the two women threw at him away with a grin. "You gonna tell me you never had sex in that truck, Dixon."

Daryl flipped him off even though he knew MacManus couldn't see his hand. "That's beside ta fuckin' point."

"What is the fucking point? You're a prude?"

There was no response except the sound of heavy boots in the bed of the truck. Connor had to refrain from laughing as he heard the butt of the cross bow hit against a window. "Y'all 'bout done?"

* * *

The next morning the rain had quit and they made quick work of packing up camp. After loading Daryl's bike into the back, along with Carol, Connor and Murphy, they made their way back toward the farm. They hit the front gate with 10 minutes of leaving their makeshift camp. Daryl pulled slowly into the drive, following it through the last gate. The silence in the cab was broken by a soft gasp from Beth as she leaned into her sister. Daryl looked at them out of the corner of his eye, unsure what he should do if anything. They were more Murphy's problem than his. But he still felt a twinge of some emotion.

He slowly pulled up to the edge of their destroyed camp, tents flattened, stuff thrown about, wet and muddy from the rain the night before. He put it in park, and hopped out of the truck as Connor and Murphy levered themselves over the sides of the bed. Murphy turned and put his hands out, helping Carol down.

With a silent nod from Daryl, the three men started a sweep through the bodies, looking for familiar faces, and for any walkers that needed to be dispatched. Slowly they made their way toward the front door of the house.

Connor's plan was simple. Clear the house first. Then once the women were safely tucked inside, they would move onto clearing the bodies. From there they would figure out what they were doing.

Weapons at the ready, they approached the closed door of the Greene farm house. Connor wrapped his hand around the handle, his shoulder against the door frame. He looked to Murphy and Daryl. With a quick nod from both of them, he glanced at where the women sat in the cab of the truck with explicit instructions to take off without them if something should happen.

Connor quickly shoved the door in and pushed away from the wall following the other two into the house. Nothing appeared to be out of place. It was as if nothing had happened. Not letting their guard down though, the three moved methodically through the house, checking every closet and room from top to bottom. No walkers were found in the house. No walkers were lingering around the property either. They must have pushed on, driven by whatever drives a mindless horde of the undead.

Dropping their weapons from their shoulders the men walked out on the porch. All three carefully stepped over the bodies on the porch, painfully aware of Herschel's lifeless body near the top of the pile.

Murphy walked down the stairs towards the passenger side of the truck. Slinging the shotgun across his back, he opened the door, and helped Beth and Maggie out. His intent was to shield them from seeing Herschel and Patricia but he couldn't think of any way to do that.

"Let's get you inside," Connor offered as he came around the truck. He extended a hand to Beth, walking her around the front of the truck, away from where Patricia laid. As they approached the front steps, Connor dropped the girl's hand and pulled her to him, purposefully tucking her head into his chest, putting his bulk between her eyes and her father as much as possible.

Maggie stood with her back against the side of the truck, facing away from the house. Tears silently coursed over her cheeks. "Love," Murphy mumbled, unsure what to do. "Can I help you to the house?"

She closed her eyes and shook her head. "No. I wanna help."

"Connor'll be right back and three of us can clean this up."

She shook her head again and wiped at the tears. "No," she insisted, despite the cracking in her voice. Murphy wrapped an arm around her and kissed her forehead as he watched Carol hand Daryl the keys to the truck. The older woman passed Connor on the stairs, who reached out to squeeze her shoulder on his way by.

"We coulda just kept 'em in the truck," Daryl muttered to Connor. The younger man looked up as Daryl got in the driver's seat and put the rust bucket into drive. Fuck he was right. They didn't need to let the women out in among the bodies in the yard he thought as the truck looped around the house. Using the back door, Carol and Beth were going to sort and unload some of the supplies, leaving plenty in the truck in case they had to make another run for it.

Pulling away from Murphy, Maggie wiped absently at her face and moved toward the shed, to grab several pairs of work gloves while Connor moved Otis's truck to the front of the house. He and Murphy looked at each other through the windshield. The mass of dead bodies was almost overwhelming. It was almost as bad as they had seen at the quarry. They were unsure where to start. The obvious place was to dig Hershel and Patricia out, and move them over to graves.

With a silent nod, Murphy went to intercept Maggie while Connor backed the truck as close to the house as he could get with Daryl's directions.

"Love," the dark haired man muttered, leaning against the door frame of the shed.

Maggie didn't look up from where she was digging through the shelves, trying to find gloves. "Yeah Murph?"

He ran a hand through his hair uncomfortably. "I need ya ta go find us a couple sheets."

Her hand paused and she lifted her head, though and stared at the wall in front of her and not back at him. "Alright," she said softly.

"Go in the house through the back, aye?" he asked hesitantly, grabbing the pile of gloves she had put on the workbench. "I'll come get the sheets when we have them moved to the truck." She nodded, not needing to know who "them" were.

Murphy joined Connor and Daryl standing at the tailgate of the truck. The other two men were staring over the bodies and chaos strewn across the yard.

"What?"

Daryl motioned with his chin towards trashed tents. "Someone's been here."

Murphy looked to try to tell what the redneck saw. His eyes raked over the mess, but he found nothing. Nothing that seemed anything more than trashed.

"The others?" he asked, trusting Daryl's eyes better than his own.

The tracker shook his head. "Nah, you see how the shit is just tossed out from the tents?"

Murphy could see what he was talking about. It looked like someone had gone into each tent and tossed stuff out into the dirt and mud. He saw one of Lori's prized albums tossed, coated with rain and mud. No. No one in their group would have done that.

"Who?" Connor asked.

"Don't know. Not sure I want to. But I'd bet it's got somethin' to do wit our good Samaritan."

* * *

Merle crouched down, staring at the hard packed mud. Fucking rain washed away what little trail there was. He wouldn't find them now. Fuck. Now what did he do?

* * *

When the next rain shower came through again later that afternoon, they were actually glad it arrived. The four of them had steadily worked to clear the front yard of bodies. It was a great relief to finally know that no one else in their group had fallen during the attack.

Leaving the MacManus's to watch the burning bodies and begin the graves, Maggie and Daryl took the truck to the barns and other outbuildings. They loaded up plywood, wood scraps, and tools to take to the house. They were going to reinforce the lower level of the house, not only from walkers but from whoever raided their camp. The two of them worked well together with only minor sniping and snarky comments. They had finished the windows on the front porch and were working on the windows on the side of the house when the rain hit.

Maggie stepped back from the ladder, opened her arms, tipped her head back, and she twirled in a circle. She smiled for the first time in days. The rain felt good, comforting. It cooled her overheated body a little. It also felt a little cathartic, a little like Mother Nature was trying to wipe the slate clean here at the farm, letting them start anew. No one had said as much yet but Maggie had a feeling they could and would stay here. At least until they had no other choice but to leave again.

Daryl looked down at her and realized it was the first time since he met her that she actually smiled, at least that he could remember. If he thought she was good looking before, she was absolutely stunning right now with the rain splattering her hair and clothes. He shook his head, annoyed at himself for looking at his 'brother's' girl like that.

"You wanna hand me another board there, Maria Von Trapp?" he asked gruffly, startling her out of her thoughts.

Half wondering how Daryl Dixon was familiar with _The Sound Of Music_, Maggie huffed softly but the smile on her face didn't dull. She passed what he asked of her, and stuck her tongue out at him as she did so. She glanced over toward where Murphy and Connor worked on the graves for her dad and Patricia. A shirtless Connor stepped out from under the overhang of branches and also tipped his head back in the rain. She had a feeling everyone was going to want a shower tonight, she just hoped they had enough gas to keep the generator running long enough to pump the water through the pipes. She had to figure out a way to guarantee she and Murphy were some of the first ones through the shower. Not that she minded his manly smell, but there was a point just past manly he was bordering on.

* * *

It was a cool evening. Carol sat in the rocking chair. Murphy stood on the other end of the porch, looking out over the barn and other outbuildings. Daryl stood on the steps, surveying the yard and far fields. Beth and Maggie were inside cleaning up dinner, their easy chattering falling on the ears of those on the porch. Connor was upstairs, the last of the group to get in the shower.

"What are you thinking?" Carol asked Daryl, though her question drew Murphy's attention as well.

"'Bout what?" Daryl asked absently, walking up the stairs, past her toward the other end of the porch.

Carol smiled at him. "About the price of corn," she answered with sincerity, making him turn and look at her.

"What ta f-"

She laughed, cutting him off. "What do you think I was talking about Daryl? What is our next step?"

He exhaled harshly. He wasn't sure why she was looking to him for the decisions that needed to be made. He was no good at them. Connor was more of a leader than he was going to be. "Guess we clean up the camp. See what there is to save." He gestured out toward where their homes used to be.

"What about the others?" Murphy asked.

"Shit, if I knew where to find them, I'd have gone and got them already," Daryl groused.

Carol nodded but looked at him with one closed eye. "You think they might think the same thing we did? Come back?"

Daryl shrugged. "Anythin's possible. Guess we just wait n see."

* * *

Beth and Maggie had already made their way upstairs, to try to get some sleep, some real sleep for the first time in days. Carol waved through the screen door as she made her way up to bed as well.

"Mind takin' first watch?" Murphy asked, with a hand on the door.

His brother rolled his eyes

"Git gone up them stairs," Daryl growled.

* * *

_**A/N: Big thank yous to Rhanon Brodie for showing me how to stop cock blocking my own characters, to Annelisa for excellent editing, questions, suggestions and keeping me on track, and to Little Miss Tightly Wound for general ass-kicking and encouragements. All three are awesome writers and if you have not checked out their works yet, you should go do that, soon. **_

_**Please leave me a review and let me know what you think of my little tale. **_


	15. Bright Eyes

**A/N: _WARNING_ Underage sexual contact in the following chapter. If that bothers you, you might want to look away.**

* * *

Connor had sent Daryl to bed some time ago, with a promise to wake him when he got too tired. Rubbing his eyes for what felt like the hundredth time, he jumped a little as he heard the front door open behind him. He turned to see Beth's outline as she stepped out on the porch.

"Hey," Beth said softly. "You mind if I come out and sit with you for a while?"

Connor shook his head, motioning toward the chair. He leaned again against the post on the porch. "Everything ok, lass?" he asked.

Beth was quiet but nodded. Connor didn't need to see her face in the dark to know she was biting her bottom lip, or know that she was lying.

"Then why aren't you sleeping?"

She shrugged. "I'm just..." her voice faded away. Connor turned to look out over the property as he let her find the words she was looking for. "It's just the last time I slept up there...was when..." she struggled with the words. "And I just didn't want to be alone," she finally admitted. "Carol's sleeping. And Maggie and Murphy are...well..."

Connor nodded, knowing what his brother and her sister were up to. "You are as safe as we can make you, Beth," he promised her. He stood next to her, his hand on her shoulder. "You are family now," he insisted. "And none of us are gonna let anything happen to you, or your sister. You know that, right?"

She nodded, and pushed her hair over an ear, not looking at him. "You think the others are ok?" she asked softly, changing the subject.

That was the thing that had plagued Connor's thoughts more than anything else the past few days. He thought it would lessen some once they sorted through the bodies on the farm, having known if anyone else fell besides Herschel and Patricia. But now the what ifs, hows, whys, and what-fors were in overdrive in his head. Especially Andrea. He had been trying his best to back the fuck off since the day she shot Daryl. But it still ate at his gut not keeping a closer eye on her when this shit went down.

"They all made it this far," he admitted. He walked over to the steps and waved a hand, two fingers extended. "I don't see anything out there to tell me they aren't ok. So I gotta believe they are."

Beth nodded and sat back in the chair. She knew she shouldn't be worried if he or Daryl or Murphy weren't worried. But she couldn't help it. It as part of who she was. And having lost just about everyone she ever cared about in such a short period of time...it was the first time in her life she had ever been faced with that much death, that much loss. She couldn't bear to lose anyone else.

She felt the tears start to form in her eyes. She felt them hot on her cheeks as they silently fell. Beth was embarrassed by them but did not make any move to brush them away. She thought it was dark enough that unless Connor was looking directly at her face, he wouldn't notice them.

However the man did notice her tears. It was hard not to see them when she closed her eyes tightly and fought back a sniffle. He wished there was more he could do for her. He knew loss, he knew violent loss. He knew what it felt like to have someone you care about yanked out of your hands, out of your life before you could do a damn fucking thing about it. He sagged against the post, staring out over the farm, thinking about Rocco, wondering what this fucking messed up world would be like with the Funny Man by their side.

And not for the first time Connor's mind wandered to his father and to Doc. Wondering how the two of them fared in this whole shit storm. And as much as he wanted to grab Murphy and take off for Boston when all this went down, Connor knew it would be like looking for two needles in a haystack. Boston was so overpopulated that there was little doubt the town would have been devastated within a week of the infection spreading. If Da and Doc had survived, there was a damn good chance neither would still be in the city. And if they were still in the city, Connor did not have the faintest idea where to even start looking for them.

Gently pulling his rosary out from under his shirt, Connor wrapped it around his hand placing the cross in his palm. Quietly, he began to say a prayer, a prayer for those he loved, for those he lost, and for those Beth loved, and lost.

_God our Father,_  
_Your power brings us to birth,_  
_Your providence guides our lives,_  
_and by Your command we return to dust._

_Lord, those who die still live in Your presence,_  
_their lives change but do not end._  
_I pray in hope for my family,_  
_relatives and friends,_  
_and for all the dead known to You alone._

_In company with Christ,_  
_Who died and now lives,_  
_may they rejoice in Your kingdom,_  
_where all our tears are wiped away._  
_Unite us together again in one family,_  
_to sing Your praise forever and ever_

Connor felt a tiny hand on his forearm. Beth.

"Amen," they whispered in unison.

He opened his eyes and looked at her, with a soft smile. Stroking his fingers over her cheeks, Connor caught her tears.

She smiled at him. "I've never heard that before," she admitted. "Thought Daddy knew them all."

He shrugged, and unwound the beads from around his hand. Beth reached out and gently touched the smooth, worn wooden beads, letting a few slip between her fingers. "Its beautiful," she said honestly.

Connor lifted his hand above hers and pooled the rosary in her cupped hand. She brought her other hand up, and cradled it carefully.

"'S not gonna break, darlin," he assured her with a crooked grin.

Beth had noticed the rosaries that he and Murphy wore under their shirts, the fabric laying tight to every bead. She had not seen the whole thing before though. The only beads she had seen were the ones that peaked out around their necks. She pulled it out, drawing the still warm, smooth beads through her fingers until each hand held an end. She brought the brought the simple but elegant cross closer to her face, letting her eyes linger on its detail.

"Its beautiful," she whispered again. She meant it though the word did not seem to capture how stunning it was.

Connor smiled at her though she wasn't looking at him. "Our Gram bought those for us the day we were born. Our da's ma. Always the devout one she was. Wanted to make sure her grandsons had all the protection the Lord could spare." Connor grinned at the memory of them hanging on the wall in their room. They hung over each of their beds until they were old enough to understand and respect them.

He also smiled at the memory of his grandmother. A hard old woman. Who had only two weak spots. Her grandsons. When Da disappeared, his mother stepped in to help Ma raise the two strong headed boys. Both women ruled with a strong hand but often butted heads over how best to raise them.

Beth gently handed the rosary back to him, and watched him loop it over his head. He tucked the rosary in, smoothing his hand over it, getting it to settle down along his stomach and chest. When he looked up at her, she was looking at his hands.

Beth watched his hands move over his shirt. And the tattoo on his left hand caught her attention. She didn't even know what language it was, but she wanted to ask. She wanted to ask about the cross on his arm too. And the Virgin Mary on his neck.

She felt herself blush as she also wondered where he might also have other tattoos. She had seen him and Murphy both without their shirts on so she knew there was none on their chests, upper arms or backs.

When Beth noticed Connor's hands stopped moving, she glanced up to find him staring at her, an amused smile on his face. She blushed harder and her eyes skidded from his.

Choosing to ignore the girl's reddened face, Connor stuck his left hand out, making an L with his thumb and forefinger. "Veritas," he said as he ran a finger over the tattoo. "It's Latin for Truth," he offered.

Beth nodded and reached a one hand out as if to cradle his hand, while lightly sliding her digit over the word as he had just done with his own. She was actually surprised to not feel a significant raise in his skin.

"Did it hurt?" she asked softly. She had never known anyone with tattoos before. Her dad always looked down on people who had them.

He tried not to notice the warmth that cascaded up his arm from where her finger brushed his skin. "Aye," he nodded, swallowing hard. "Anyone who tells you tattoos don't hurt is a lying bastard," he admitted.

Beth dropped his hand as quickly as she had cradled it, smiling self consciously at her boldness. She didn't know why she held his hand like she had his rosary. She knew by the way he spoke that he valued that tattoo as much as he valued the gift from his grandmother that he wore around his neck.

The front door opened, making them both jump and turn. The shadow emerged from the house carrying a cross bow.

Daryl.

"How's it goin'?" he nodded at Connor. "Ready for some sleep, brother?"

Beth didn't take it personal that he all but dismissed her. It was just Daryl being Daryl.

Connor nodded and yawned, placing a hand in the small of her back, making her almost jump at the intimacy of the gesture. "Been quiet," he assured Dixon. "Get Murph up when you've had enough."

Wishing Daryl a good night, they walked into the house and upstairs. "I'm gonna sleep in Momma and Daddy's room, I think," Beth told Connor softly.

He nodded, not needing any more of an explanation. "You need anything else?" he whispered to her, his hand still on the small of her back as she walked through the doorway.

Beth turned to him and shook her head. "No," she assured him with a small smile. "But thank you, Connor."

"Fer?" He yawned.

Her smile turned shy. "For everything. For listening. For sharing." Her big blue eyes met his for a brief second and she leaned forward, depositing a quick kiss on his cheek. She turned toward the bed, flipping the covers back.

Connor smiled at her. "Sleep well. If you need anything, come get me, aye?"

Beth sat down on the edge of the bed and nodded, "'Night."

"'Night, Bright Eyes."

Connor pulled the door closed behind him and wandered into the room across the hall. The door was wide open and the bed was unoccupied. What more could a man want? Setting the lantern in his hand on the nightstand next to the bed, he blew it out and stripped down to his shorts. Sliding between the sheets, he stretched out, letting his muscles and joints relax. He knew sleep wasn't going to be long finding him.

* * *

Beth woke up to the feel of something snake across her stomach, a hard band pulling her back against something warm and solid. She tensed, her brain whirling, trying to make sense of what it was. She felt a warm breeze stir in her hair, something soft stroke the skin behind her ear.

Putting her hand on the band, she ran the length of it, finding a hand splayed across her stomach. A sizable hand, one at least twice as big as hers. Fully opening her eyes she pulled back the sheets and saw the dark outline of a cross on the forearm around her. She knew at once who it was. Connor.

She breathed deep, letting her heart calm down a little. She closed her eyes again, not trying to figure out why the twin was behind her. He was probably just worried about her. Maybe she had a nightmare she didn't remember having.

A small smile on her face, she let her eyes drift shut just as the hand on her stomach smoothed over her shirt, down until it sat just below her navel, pulling her butt back against him. Beth jumped a little and blushed as she realized what was rubbing against her bottom. She blushed twice as hard as she felt her own hips rock slightly, settling herself against him. The feeling of a warm firm decidedly male body pressed up against hers sent a tingle that started slowly in her butt and bloomed into a foreign ache between her thighs, making her breath catch in her throat.

The hand slid over her ribs, reaching for her breast, cupping gently around it. The warmth of his touch made her nipple tighten, and she bit back a small moan and an urge to press herself against the hand. Jimmy had never dared touch her there. He had never dared touch her anywhere really. He was always a complete gentleman.

And now he was gone. Beth felt tears prick at her eyes at the thought of her dead boyfriend. They had been together for such a short period of time before the world went to hell but yet she never let him go very far, though he wanted to. She had told him they had plenty of time, that he could wait til after she was 18. That's what good girls did. Actually good girls waited til they were married but Beth wasn't sure how they would have had a wedding with the apocalypse happening outside their door.

With a gentle squeeze, the hand moved from her chest, planing over her belly. Breath caught in her throat as the hand angled slightly, slipping under the elastic of her sleep shorts, and moved to cup her sex through her cotton panties. Connor's hips shifted forward, the hardening length of him pressing against her as the hand held her in place.

The dull ache between her legs that had started early turned into a throb. She knew she should grab the hand, pull it away. She knew she should get out of the bed. But instead she ran her hand down his arm, pressing his hand harder against her. She didn't know why she did it, probably because the feeling the brush of his fingers caused was tenfold what her own hands could do. Eyes closing, Beth bit her bottom lip as his hand moved further back, pressing over the center of her, a finger digging into the fabric between her legs.

There was soft groan followed by quick intake of breath from behind her and suddenly the hand was gone as a rough sleep-filled voice rumbled in her ear. "What the fuck are you doing in here, girl?"

Connor sat up, putting his back against the wall. He rubbed the palm of his hand against his eyes, trying to process what the fuck was going on. Waking up to a warm body was pleasantly unexpected. Finding his hand buried between her thighs was a welcome sensation. But it was Beth. Holding his hand against her.

"You ok?" Connor tried again, his voice softer this time, not quite as harsh or startled. She seemed flustered but otherwise ok.

Beth just nodded, afraid to speak, ashamed by the tingling that was coursing through her body, with just a barest touch from Connor's hand. She sat up and thought about getting out of bed. But it was then she realized she was only in a camisole and a pair of small sleep shorts. She bit her lip and looked at Connor as he continued to blink sleep out of his eyes.

"You sure?" he asked. "What happened? Scared again?"

Beth shook her head and moved away from him, turning on her back, and finally took in where they were. They were in her bedroom. She had auto piloted back to her own room after she got up to pee earlier. She sighed at her own stupidity. "No, I... I forgot where I was sleeping," she admitted sheepishly. "This is my room."

He nodded his head and moved to swing his legs off of the bed. "I'm gonna go sleep in the other room." He scratched at his scalp absently before standing.

Now Beth felt like a jerk. She should be the one moving back to her Daddy's room. Connor was here first. She got up from the bed, and stepped in front of Connor as he headed for the door, his pants, shirt and boots in his hands. Beth put one of her hands flat on his chest, stopping him in his tracks. "No, no," she insisted. "You stay here."

Connor looked down at the hand on his chest and trailed up her arm, over her shoulder until his eyes met hers. She gave him a small shy smile and curled her fingers into a fist, her nails scraping at his chest, causing a small shiver to run up his spine. He clenched his eyes shut, and turned his head to the side slightly, trying to not thinking about the electricity running from his spine through other parts of his body.

"I'm sorry," Beth whispered, figuring she had done something wrong. She tucked her fist against her chest, covering it with her other hand.

"No, Bright Eyes. Not you," Connor assured her, opening his eyes and looking at her. "You sure you don't wanna stay in your own room?"

"Only if you stay with me," Beth blurted out loud.

"Beth," Connor tried.

In one bold move, Beth stepped forward and kissed him, her lips sealing over his in a moment of desperation and hedonism she didn't even know she possessed, still spurred on by the now dull ache between her legs. Connor froze in pace, unsure what he should do. He gripped his clothes tighter in his hands, as she reached a hand up to cup his cheek. As her tongue brushed against his lips, he pulled back, both of them a little out of breath.

"Beth," he tried, his voice stern, or so he hoped. He tried to school the senselessness that she infected him with, the want to kiss her back. 17 year olds did not kiss like that when he was 17. "I think it best if one of us goes to sleep over there."

Dropping her hand from his cheek, Beth started picking at her nails on the other hand, her eyes down-turned and sad. "I'm sorry. That was stupid. I just ..." her voice faltered. "I just thought since I felt... that maybe you might want...that I could maybe... Oh forget it!" She turned to storm from the room but not before Connor saw tears in her eyes. There had been too many tears spilled the past few days, and he certainly didn't want her to shed any more over him and something he might have done.

Dropping his pants, Connor caught her elbow as she turned to go. "Wait, Bright Eyes. You thought what?"

She shook her head, wiping at her tears. "I'm an idiot."

"No, love, you aren't. Tell me what you thought."

"I thought ..." Tears were now in her voice, and he could tell she was just a few seconds from falling apart.

"C'mon sweetheart," he soothed. "Sit down."

Beth plopped down on the edge of the bed, and looked at her hands in her lap. "I felt... when you touched me..." her voice faded as she searched for the words that didn't make her sound like a kid. "I thought you liked me," she said softly.

"Course I do, lass," Connor reached out and cupped her chin in his hand, making her look at him.

She pulled away. "But not 'that' way," Beth finished what she assumed was his full statement.

Connor was confused and tired, and they shouldn't be having this conversation in the first place. She was Hershel's 17 year old daughter. "Look. Let's just go to sleep. And we can talk about this tomorrow, aye?"

Beth nodded. "Can I stay with you?" she asked in a soft whisper.

Despite his better judgement, Connor relented. "Yeah love. C'mon." He reached a hand out, and helped her stand. He pulled the covers back and let her lay down. Tucking her in, he snagged his shirt and pants off the floor and walked over to the other side of the bed. He shrugged into the shirt thinking it was a least another barrier between them. After pulling his jeans back on, he settled under the covers next to her.

They laid in an uncomfortable silence with their backs to each other, trying to figure out what the hell just happened. And why?

Connor's mind drifted to Amy. How long had she been gone? Connor hadn't thought much about her the past few days, but now laying next to Beth, he thought of the other girl. The one he couldn't save. He should have insisted on walking out of the RV first. But if he had, his gut clenched, he'd be dead more than likely.

"Connor?"

Beth's voice cut through the memory of that night at the quarry. And the next morning. Of him watching Andrea shoot...

"Connor." Beth's voice was more insistent this time.

Blinking, he rolled over and found her on her side facing him. Balancing herself up on her elbow, she hovered over him. Slowly he reached a hand out, brushing her hair back from her face. She leaned forward and kissed him again, and he let her. Connor's hand in her hair slid behind her neck, gently holding her in place as he kissed her back. Tentatively she licked at his lips. Connor's fingers tightened in her hair as his tongue met hers.

Beth pressed a hand to his chest, pushing closer to him, leaning over him. She felt his heart beat under her fingers, and felt her own pulse quicken as he turned toward her.

The hand behind her head slid over her shoulder and down her arm. His hand came to rest on top of hers on his chest, his palm cupping the back of hers as he slowed the kiss. Pressing his forehead to hers, Connor licked his lips and took a deep breath.

"Beth," he started, softly, trying to keep the admonishment out of his voice. She wasn't a child, he reminded himself though his body recognized she wasn't. "I don't think this is a very good idea."

"Why not?"

The list of reasons why not seemed to be a mile long in his head. She was so young. She was Maggie's little sister. This could make things super awkward in the group.

He had paused too long and Beth was kissing him again. She turned toward him, her hand winding through his hair, pulling him closer to her. All thought of what was right and proper skidded out of Connor's head as the tip of her tongue touched his lips.

One hand found her hip, pulling her closer to him, the other stayed twined in her hair. "Are you sure, Bright Eyes?" he mumbled against her cheek.

Beth's eyes were closed but she nodded. "Yes."

Pushing her back onto her pillow, Connor moved his mouth down her chin, down her neck. Beth whispered his name, her hand clutching his shoulder as he nipped at her neck. Her body was on fire, and he hardly touched her. None of her boyfriends ever made her feel this way, she thought as her body pressed up against him, her body moving without thinking.

"I don't want to die a virgin."

_Oh fuck me,_ he thought to himself, willing himself to calm down. "Shit, Beth." Connor's hold on her lessened and he moved back, pulling away from her. He dropped the hand from her hip. All the reservations he had came flooding back, with her virginity tacked on the end.

He rolled away from her, and sat up on the edge of the bed. Beth reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder, keeping him from leaving, as she knelt behind him. She pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, mercilessly close to his ear as she wrapped both arms around him. One hand went for the hem of his shirt, her fingers working under the tight material. Her fingers rested on his bare skin just above the waistband of his jeans, her fingers brushing against the warm metal of his belt buckle.

Connor caught her hand in his own, twining his fingers with hers. "Beth."

She kissed his neck again, her teeth grazing against his ear. "I'm not gonna break, Connor," she assured him. "I know what I want."

He knew that. He also knew all they had was this very second, this very moment. It was that changed his mind. Connor looked at her, and captured her lips, kissed her softly. He turned towards her, dropping her hands, reaching for her, one hand on each cheek as he gently kissed her. Soft, sweet kisses. "Are you sure, Bright Eyes?"

Beth gave him a small smile, and kissed him, tightening her hold on his shirt, pulling him closer. She laid back, bringing him with her, making him follow her across the bed until they were laying side by side again. This time they were facing each other. Connor pushed her hair back from her face, his blue eyes flicking back and forth between hers, searching for any reluctance, any reservation.

Tiring of his hesitation, Beth leaned away from him, she pulled at her own shirt, tossing it against the curtains with a soft hiss. Connor's eyes never left hers as he cupped her cheek, kissing her. He drew her bottom lip between his, his teeth grazing it slightly. As she whimpered into his mouth, he groaned, and gently ran his hands over her sides, fingers itching to touch her exposed breasts, free of a bra. Palming her small breasts in his hands, he enjoyed the shutters that ran through Beth, as his calloused fingers plucked at her hard little nipples.

"Connor," she moaned gently.

He shushed her with another kiss. She pushed him back, moving him until he laid on the bed next to her. He groaned up into her mouth, a hand finding its way into her hair, the other grabbing her arm, as she moved to straddle his middle, her thighs on either side of him. One of Beth's hands sat on the pillow by his head, the other hooked under the bottom of his shirt. Her hand pulled at the cotton, yanking it from him. Her nails scraped lightly over his chest.

"Fuck," he muttered against her mouth, both hands moving to her hair, gently fisting, winding hair around his fingers, gently pulling her head where he could properly plunder her mouth.

Muttering each other's names against skin, Connor lifted her gently and deposited her back onto the bedding. Beth's arms curled around his neck, pulling him tight against her, as she hooked one leg behind his thigh, moving him to lay him between her legs. Conn groaned in her mouth and ground against her small frame, Beth's leg moving up to his hip. "Shit, girl. You sure you haven't done this before?" he asked softly.

Beth froze and opened her eyes. "What? No." She dropped her leg to the ground.

Moving his hands to rest on the bed beside her, Connor pulled back to look at her slightly confused, slightly pissed off face. He smiled down at her, his hand reaching to touch her cheek. "You just seem to know exactly what's gonna get my attention."

"I'm... sorry?" She was confused. Did he think she was lying?

He chuckled at her, his hand tightening on her cheek as he leaned in and laid a soft kiss against her mouth. "You are fine, darlin'. Just fine." Beth relaxed into his kiss, her hands sliding over his shoulders, fingers following the grooves on his arms. Slipping her hand down his chest, down his stomach, feeling the muscles twitch as she touched him, her fingers circling his navel before stopping on his belt buckle. "Connor," she whispered, and he wasn't sure if it was a question.

"Yes love?"

"Show me."

_Christ_ ,she was going to be the death of him, he thought as he buried his head into her neck. 'Show me' could mean any number of things. He nipped at her collarbone before pulling back. He sat back on his heels, looking down at the woman child. How he wanted her, and it was clear she wanted him too.

"Show you what, hon?"

"I want to see you," she whispered softly, sitting up, reaching for his belt buckle with shaking hands. Jesus. He was going to come in his pants like a 13 year old kid just from that little whisper. If she wasn't the sweetest thing he had seen in a long time, it almost made his teeth ache. Tousled blonde curls, big blue eyes that were filled with both wonder and trepidation, perky little tits, the 17 year old girl was sitting in her childhood bed, reaching for his belt. He closed his eyes and tried to calm his breathing, calm his thoughts as her hands moved the leather through the buckle.

He grabbed at her wrists as she tugged at his zipper. She looked up at him, afraid she had done something wrong. He smirked at her, kissing her, pushing her back against the bed. "You first," he whispered, his fingers dipping under the waistband of her little sleep shorts, pulling them down her hips. He needed to get control of himself and he needed to get her focus off of him for a minute or two so he could get there. But now she was laying on the bed in nothing more than a pair of white panties. So much for calming himself down by distracting her.

His mouth left hers, and moved over in a lazy line down her chest, over her stomach. He shucked his half undone jeans off, tossing them to a corner before settling between her thighs.

"Connor?" Beth half whispered, half whined as he laid a kiss on the side of her thigh.

She smelled incredible, and he was sure she tasted just as sweet. But he needed to take his time, he needed to go slow. He peppered kisses up her thigh, his tongue dancing where her leg met her bottom, just under the edge of her panties. She whined, and her hands clutched at the blanket below her. "What are you doing?" she whispered harshly.

Instead of answering, Connor showed her. He laid his tongue against the warm, and wet cloth of her panties, running it from top to bottom. Beth squealed loud enough he was certain Daryl heard it downstairs on watch.

"Shhhhh," he muttered, before doing it again. This time she was quieter but jumped, her pelvic bone colliding with his forehead.

Connor grinned, sitting up on his elbows, looking at her face through the darkness, his eyes long since adjusted. He slipped his hands over her hips, and tugged at the panties, pulling them down her thigh, tossing them to some distant corner of the room. Settling back between her thighs, Connor put one hand on her lower stomach, keeping her from moving too much. His other hand pushed her thigh further out of his way, putting her leg over his shoulder. Tentatively he reached out with his tongue and followed the same path it swiped on her panties, only now it was met with soft hairs and a tangy sweet taste. "Connor!" Beth whispered.

"Baby, you have got to be quiet," he muttered against her, his hot breath making her shudder. He was fairly certain Daryl didn't need to hear this, his hunter ears heard a pin drop in the barn. Connor smirked at the thought that maybe it might spur Daryl to go do something about his blatant attraction to Carol, but he doubted it, the chicken shit. Now was not the time to think about Daryl Dixon's non-existent sex life, Connor chided himself, pushing Daryl and Carol out of his head, focusing on the woman in front of him. He brushed his tongue over her tiny pink bundle of nerves and he held her hip down as she nearly jumped up. He heard her trying to stifle her noises and wished they were somewhere where she could be as loud as she wanted. He wanted to hear what he was doing to her.

Beth wasn't sure which way was up. Had no clue since Connor sunk between her thighs. She had touched herself a few times there, but it never felt like this. She never remembered being this wet, this turned on. She wasn't sure what he was doing but oh... god... "Yes," she hissed. She had no idea what the question was but he found the answer. He tentatively touched her entrance with one finger, sliding gently moving in and out just a little. Her body arched up, demanding more. More of what she wasn't sure but she needed it, and she hoped he had an idea.

Connor had an idea and he slid his finger in her, deeper, curling against her, making her whine as his tongue found her clit again. Beth was certain she was going to fly off of the bed, the tension in her whole body reaching a bursting point, and when she didn't think she could take it any more she climbed higher. "Connor. Oh God, Connor," she whined before whimpering softly into his pillow, her body jerking under his ministrations, her thighs tightening around his ears.

He grinned as her body twitched again as he just breathed across her hot center. The thought _Now I know what all the fuss is about_ filtered through the fog in her brain.

"Oh god," she groaned as he crawled up to lay next to her.

"Lord's name, girl." Connor grinned as he gathered her limp body into his arms, softly kissing the side of her head.

Beth turned in his arms and pulled him in for a kiss. She could taste herself on his lips and tongue and didn't care. Briefly she thought she should be disgusted but the thought flew from her brain as his hands gently stroked her back. "Wow," she said when she caught her breath again.

"Welcome," he mumbled, tucking her head under his chin, pulling her closer. Beth just snorted and settled into his warm embrace. Their legs tangled together, and he pulled a blanket over them before settling his hands on her back, drawing lazy patterns, lulling her into a sleepy stupor.

* * *

Beth didn't know how long she had snoozed but she woke up enveloped in a cocoon of Connor and blankets, and had never felt so comfortable in her life. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, his features softened by sleep. She pressed a kiss to his chest and tried to move out from under his arm. As much as she hated it, she needed to get back across the hall before dawn, before someone would notice where she was.

Connor foiled that plan by tightening his arms around her. "Stay with me," he requested, laying a sleepy kiss to the top of her head. "I wanna wake up in the morning with you still here."

And that's where Murphy found her when he came to the room next morning. A soft knock at the door sounded, bringing Connor out of sleep. He opened his eyes to see Murphy smirking from the doorway. Scowling at his little brother, Connor silently willed him to keep quiet as he slipped out from under Beth, leaving her to sleep a little longer.

* * *

_**This chapter is for Rhanon Brodie and Little Miss Tightly Wound who cheered Bonner on through Twitter, chat, and emails. **_

**_Thanks to Annelisa for her editing skills and hand holding. Much appreciated. _**

**_Thank you to all my new and loyal followers. Your reviews, favorites and PMs make this all worth while. :)_**


	16. Ends meet

_AN: Its been a while since I was 17 and had to deal with teenage mindset, so this chapter took a little longer to hash out. I think Beth, Connor and I are on the same page. We will see. _

* * *

"New house rule," Daryl started, around a mouth full of breakfast. "No one goes nowhere outside of ta house wit out a friend." He looked up with a smirk to find a sleepy-eyed Beth plop into a chair and stare at the empty plate in front of her. "It's like scout camp. Buddy system. At least 'til we know who was here n what they want."

* * *

Daryl headed off for a few hours sleep while Connor, Maggie, and Murphy began cleaning up the camp. Maggie retrieved boxes out of one of the sheds, while Connor and Murphy gathered the wheelbarrow, some rakes and shovels.

Maggie felt a little like she was on an episode of Hoarders. They kept just about everything they possibly could, including broken tent poles, ripped tents and other damaged items. These days they really did not know what they were gonna need nor when they were gonna need it.

As soon as breakfast was cleaned up, they were joined by Carol and Beth. They went tent by tent, setting each one back up to the best of their ability, then clean it out, sorting as they went. The plan was to let each tent dry out, then pack them up in case they were needed at some point. If and when the rest of the group came back, there simply was not going to be enough room in the house.

Maggie was amazed by the amount of stuff that was in each tent. She didn't know how everyone thought enough to grab all of these personal items when they ran for their lives from their homes. She did not even know where to begin if she was pressed to do the same.

She almost felt like she was snooping through people's stuff. She knew these people, and it felt almost morbid to be sorting through their stuff, determining if it was worth keeping or should be tossed.

She ran her hand over the cover of a photo album that had been sitting under the broken cot she had just tossed out to Murphy. She was pleased to see it was just dirt, and not mud coating the cover. She looked at a beautiful picture of Rick, Lori and Carl. They all seemed so very happy. And Maggie sent a quick prayer up that they were ok. Standing she took it and its siblings out to the box sitting just outside the door of the tent. She angled the top for Murphy to see.

He smiled at her, his hand brushing over the cross under his shirt. He too shipped a prayer up for the Grimes family. Never before all this did Murphy have a female friend as close as he had in Lori. He wasn't sure what it was about her that made that possible. And he truly wished he had her here with them now.

The porch quickly filled with personal items that needed to dry out. Murphy and Connor dragged tables out of one of the sheds that were used for many Greene 4th of July picnics. Setting them in the sun around the house, Maggie and her sister spread out as many of the belongings as they could to dry.

Carol began laundering the pile of clothes that was quickly accumulated. Soon she and Beth had the lines behind the house all but filled. Wringing the last shirt in the bucket in front of her out, Carol sent the girl to grab more clothes from the clean up. Beth absently nodded and wandered off around the side of the house.

Beth's brain had been elsewhere all morning- had been since she woke up to see Connor quietly sneaking out of her room. He had hardly said a word to her. She thought that meant he had had second thoughts about what they had done, what he had done, last night. He could not bear the thought of facing her alone after what had happened, after learning how inexperienced she was. He was used to women having certain amount of know-how in the bedroom. And Beth didn't have it.

She frowned and wished she had more experience with all the sex stuff, had let Jimmy go further than she had been willing to go all those months ago. At least now she would be able to keep Connor interested for more than one night, given him a reason to come back for more. Beth wasn't so sure she could have returned the favor. She had heard other girls talk about using their mouths on a boy's ...'thing.'

She silently chided herself. Least she could do is call it what it was. A penis. Calling it what it was didn't make it sound any more appealing than calling it a 'thing.' She didn't know why anyone would want to put their mouth there.

Beth was so lost in her own head she didn't notice someone headed towards her with an armload of clothes until she knocked into his side, making half the contents in the overflowing box cascade to the ground.

She automatically put her hand on his arm where she hit him, her other hand going to her mouth. "I am so sorry," she muttered as crouched down to pick up a couple shirts. She didn't even fully register who it was until a hand wrapped around hers on one of Rick's shirts, stilling her frantic movements.

_Veritas_

Connor.

Sheepishly she looked up at him, her blue eyes wider than normal. Connor had wanted to talk to her since she came down for breakfast but they never had a chance. Someone else was always around. And now he had her as alone as possible at the moment and his voice caught in his throat. He wasn't sure what to say to her.

He had been thinking all morning, since Murphy came to get him to talk over Daryl's new plan. Connor had a chance to clear his head, and think about what had happened between him and Beth, and why he had let it happen. He knew he shouldn't have stayed in there with her, knew he should have left her bedroom. She was Maggie's 17 year old sister. Or maybe she was 18 by now, he didn't even know. Either way she was too young- way too young and innocent for him to be messing around with. She wasn't just some play thing he picked up at a bar. She was a part of this group, and not someone he could just fuck and forget, per his usual MO with random hook ups.

Beth took his silence as just a continuation of his bitter disappointment in her, and quickly looked away. She dropped the shirt and moved her hand away from his, tucking it against her chest defensively.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, almost as if she was ashamed to have tried to pick up the mud-stained shirt for him. She quickly scooped up the others and placed them in the box. Then stood and reached for the box.

Connor grabbed her arm and pulled it away from the box as he straightened next to her. "You alright, Bright Eyes?" He placed the palm of his hand on her cheek, the tips of his fingers curling around her jaw. He held her in place, but she wouldn't meet his eyes. "Luv, what is it?"

Beth closed her eyes and shrugged off his hand. "Nothin'. I'm gonna take these to Carol." She stepped around him, wedging herself between his back and the box.

Was she ashamed of what has happened last night? Did he hurt her somehow? He was pretty sure he hadn't but maybe he got over exuberant, and accidentally hurt her. Fuck, this was not working out well at all, was it?

"Beth," Connor tried again, a bit agitated by her unwillingness to even look at him. "Elizabeth Greene," he said sternly, making her head rotate slowly around to look at him over her shoulder.

The look on her face was a mix of pissed off and annoyed. But she was looking at him, and her guard was dropped. Connor counted that as a win, and his grin showed it. He kissed her cheek, his lips lingering, leaving a soft trail to her jaw.

He had to stop himself. He had just finished berating himself about how stupid it was to play around with her. But something about her drew him in. Could be the lack of sex. He hadn't had anything besides Rosey Palm since Amy died.

He sighed. And maybe that was part of the problem.

Connor pulled back from her. "Can we talk?" he asked softly, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the side of the house. He gently cornered her, putting her back against the wall.

Beth was unsure of this situation and herself. She worried her bottom lip and couldn't meet his eyes.

Connor cupped her chin, tilting her face up to meet his eyes. He found tears there, and he felt his gut clench. He pulled her close, as she started to cry. "You gonna tell me what's wrong?" he asked softly in her ear, one of his hands stroking her hair.

"You left," Beth sighed into his neck, her arms going around his waist, letting herself be enveloped in his embrace.

Connor pulled back, making her raise her head. He caught her chin again. "You were sleeping," he insisted , his eyes searching hers. "And Murph needed me."

"Oh," she said simply. That thought hadn't crossed her mind. She hadn't thought about him having something else to do.

He smirked at her, almost to the point of mocking. "Oh? What did you think happened this morning?"

Beth bit her bottom lip, and shrugged. "I thought you regretted last night. That since I'm still a, you know..." she trailed off .

Connor closed his eyes trying hard to not add to her already overflowing self-doubt. "Luv," he started, opening his eyes and looking at her, his crystal blue ones searching the giant sapphire pools on her cherub-esque face. "I don't regret last night."

She squirmed in his hold, her face falling. "But! I can hear the 'but' coming."

Connor sighed and tried to direct his thoughts and keep this conversation as level headed as possible. Which was hard when talking to an overwrought 17 year old who wore her heart on her sleeve.

He nodded. "But I do think you need to consider maybe I'm not the right fellow to be giving that kinda thing to."

Her eyes widened and tears started to pool.

"Christ," he swore, his head dropping to his chest. "Could ya not do that?"

"Do what?" she asked, her voice little more than a squeak.

"The fucking tears," he sighed, exasperated. That only made the tears worse, fuck. "I'm sorry," he tried.

"No, I'm sorry," she said harshly, trying to push herself out of his embrace. When he wouldn't let her go, she struck at his arms, trying like hell to get away.

"Beth," he tried to calm her, but it wasn't working and she was damn near hysterical. Her breathing was non-existent and he was afraid she would get herself hurt or worse if he let her go.

"Beth?" another voice broke through their little world. Connor's head turned and he looked at Carol. He let Beth go and she flew towards the other woman, clinging to her.

Carol's eyes met his as she tried to soothe the sobbing girl. "What happened?" she asked.

"We was talking."

"Didn't look like talking."

Connor wondered just how much of the conversation Carol had witnessed. He rubbed a hand over his face wearily and sighed.

In truth, Carol had not heard much of the conversation. She was coming around the house to get more clothes, assuming Beth had been dragged off into another task. Carol never expected to see a hysterical Beth being pinned to the wall of the house by Connor.

Carol trusted Connor, explicitly, and knew that things weren't always what they seemed. But her first concern was getting Beth calmed down, then worry about Connor. "Bring the box," she said over her shoulder, pulling Beth around the house.

* * *

Murphy and Maggie worked silently setting up the tent the brothers had shared while camped in the yard. Once it was set up, she went in and began boxing everything that had not already been dumped, shaken or thrown from the tent. She tossed it out for Murphy to sort through. She sat in the middle of the floor, with a soft smile on her face. Recent memories flooded her mind.

_There was a rustle against the front of his tent, and Murphy half woke, expecting it to be Connor, heading to bed after being on watch all night. But the tent was too dark for it to be even close to morning. Who the hell was messing with his zipper then?_

_He sat up, letting the thin sheet he was sleeping under pool at his waist, and looked up to see Maggie slipping through the door. It was a pleasant surprise. He wasn't sure why she was here, but part of him hoped it had something to do with her climbing in his lap last night while he was on watch. _

_"Hey," she whispered, when she saw him looking at her. _

_He gave her a half-smile. "What's up?"_

_She shrugged and arranged herself over on Connor's bed, drawing her legs up against her chest, and looking around the small interior. _

_Murphy laid back down on his side, facing her. He left the sheet bunched around his hips, and tucked his arm under his head, looking her in the eye. "Runnin' away from home?" he asked, half-reaching for his jeans for a smoke he knew wasn't there._

_Dropping his hand, he watched Maggie watch his fingers then turned his palm up, resting the back of his hand on the floor, his fingers curled slightly. Murphy's hand twitched, as she tentatively reached out and brushed her fingertips over his. He curled his fingers, then tugged on her arm, pulling her forward. _

_Maggie moved to kneel next to him, their fingers still entwined, then placed her free hand next to his head. She looked down at him, her dark hair falling in her face. _

_Murphy reached up with his empty hand and brushed the soft locks back before laying his palm flat against her cheek. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch with a small smile; just that small gesture sent a wave of warmth through her, spreading from her cheek to her toes and fingertips._

_Pulling her arm across his chest, Murphy dropped her hand, to bring his other hand up to cup the side of her face. He rose up on an elbow, while drawing her down. Their mouths met softly, tentatively. Lips gently parted, breaths mingling just enough as they felt each other out, one more nervous than the other. _

_Finally, Murphy pushed a hand behind her neck, and drew her down, drew her into a harder kiss. Her hand moved to his chest, curling against the warm skin there, the hairs tickling her super sensitive skin. _

_She moved to lay down beside him, his body turning toward hers. Their hands stroked over each other, grabbing, pinching, twisting, ghosting, pulling, pushing until they became a mass of fingers and tingling skin._

_Murphy made short work of her shirt, tossing it elsewhere. She pressed herself closer to him, wanting to feel his skin against hers, needing to. She held her breath as his mouth moved from hers to her cheek, over her jaw and made its way down her neck. _

_Tightening his hold on her, he rolled them so she was on her back. His mouth moved over her neck, sucking, nipping and licking as her hands dug into his hair. She pushed it back out of his eyes, letting it fall from between her fingers. His eyes searched hers as his mouth slipped lower. _

_Maggie held her breath and closed her eyes as he reached his fingers under the edge of her bra and pushed it up, pulling her breasts free from their confines. Smirking at him, she reached down and simply popped the front clasp of the bra open, letting the cups fall to the side. _

_With a quick intake of breath, Murphy leaned down and began to gently leave a trail of kisses and nips around one breast until he was on the underside, licking gently with the tip of his tongue. Maggie groaned and arched into his mouth, loving the feel of him on her skin._

_Her hands moved over his back, reaching down further, cupping his ...well then... naked ass. She smiled as she found his perfect hind-end bare._

_She squeezed it and giggled. "Expecting someone?"_

_He raised his face from her breast and leaned down to kiss her softly. "Wishful thinking really."_

_"Your wish come true?"_

_"Not quite." He pushed his tongue into her mouth, slipping past her lips._

_Placing her feet on the floor, Maggie arched her hips up into him, as he moved against her. His hand smoothed over the flat of her stomach and found the button on her jeans. He popped it open, then carefully pulled the zipper down. Maggie lifted her hips again as his hand slipped between the fabric of her jeans and soft cotton of her panties._

_Cupping her gently, he swallowed her sighs, as she moved against his hand, her fingers digging into his arm and shoulders. Curling one hand around the back of his head, Maggie held him in place as she sat up, pushing against him, and drawing her legs out from under him. Between the two of them they removed her jeans and panties. _

_Murphy tossed them to the side as she got on her knees in front of him, her hands going for either side of his head, as she kissed him softly, gently. His hands smoothed over her arms, and down her sides. Sliding his hands over her hips, he grabbed her ass, pulling her closer to him. Maggie sighed as their bodies pressed against each other, every inch of her skin seared to his. The hairs on his chest, and legs tickling against her, his hands kneading her ass._

_"What are we doing?" she whispered._

_Murphy kissed the corner of her mouth. "If I need ta explain it to you, maybe you should go back to the house," he half insisted. _

_With a grin, Maggie yanked his belt open. "I think I'll stay."_

* * *

Once Beth calmed down, she rejoined Carol's laundry efforts. The two of them worked in companionable silence for a while.

"You need to talk?" Carol asked, offering what any mother would. She wanted to know what had happened but she didn't want to throw Beth for another loop. Carol could always get it out of Connor, probably in a more rational fashion. Beth shook her head as she pinned a shirt to the line.

Carol left it at that, figuring she would talk to Connor later.

Murphy nuzzled against Maggie's ear as she worked on preparing lunch. He was supposed to be helping her but clearly he was the wrong person for the task. "Want ta guess who Conn was in bed with this morning?" The utter delight in his voice was infectious and Maggie smiled before thinking hard on what he asked.

"Took 'em long enough."

"So you are ok with it?" he asked dubiously.

Maggie shrugged her shoulders before kissing him on the cheek. "Why wouldn't I be? They are both adults. Who cares about their age difference? It doesn't really matter anymore."

Murphy tightened his hold on her. "Well that's good. I expected you to freak out."

"Why would I freak out 'bout Connor and Carol?"

"Luv," he started slowly. "'Twasn't Carol in bed with Connor." He let the statement linger or a second, letting her process the information.

"Wait," Maggie paused. "You better be about to out your brother and Daryl," she said, anger filling her voice. When he didn't fill in the blank for her, she pulled out of his arms. "I'ma gonna kill him."

* * *

"Connor!"

The lighter twin's head spun around as he saw Maggie stomping down the porch stairs. He glanced at his twin who stopped at the top of the stairs and simply shrugged at him apologetically.

"Fuck," Connor swore under his breath. He should have known this was going to be Maggie's reaction to what happened last night. And would be his brother who told her. Prick.

Maggie did not slow up as she got into his space. She shoved him roughly, her hands against his chest. "What the hell did you think you were doing?"

He held his hands up. "Maggie, lass. Can we talk about this?"

"Talk about nothing, you asshole. She's just a kid."

Connor shook his head. "Trust me, she's hardly a kid, Maggie."

The punch was unexpected, he realized as his eyes watered. He brought his hands up to his face, his tongue running over his teeth to make sure they were all fast. Maggie had a hell of a right hook, better than some he had been hit with before. Connor's half focused eyes watched Murphy slowly make his way down the stairs, unsure if he should interrupt or let the two of them talk it out.

"Maggie," Connor tried again. "Look, I was already talked to Beth. Told her this wasn't a good idea."

"Oh so you just take her virginity and walk away, that it?" The older Greene sister was pissed. "That your thing, Connor?"

He gritted his teeth. "Do you even talk to your sister?" he asked. "Or did you just charge out here half cocked?"

Maggie narrowed her eyes. "What did you do?" she hissed.

"I didn't do anything," he insisted. Her glare turned stoney and he put his hands on his hips. "Nothing she didn't want," he said with a small sneer.

"You son of a bitch," Maggie growled.

They were interrupted by the distant sound of gravel under tires. Turning Connor saw a dark SUV slowly pull through the gate. A car he did not recognize at all. "Shit."

"What do we do?" Murphy had joined them finally.

"Someone needs to get Daryl," Connor suggested. "Now!"

He turned to see Beth running for the house, half wondering where she had come from. Maggie grabbed for the shotgun that was leaned against a tree. Putting her shoulder against the same tree, she closely watched the vehicle as the twins walked forward, guns drawn but hands hanging at their sides.

The SUV stopped a small distance from the camp and the engine turned off. Through the glare on the windshield, none of them could tell anything about the occupants, making Connor even more nervous. The front passenger door opened, and a foot extended to the ground. When the door slammed both Murphy and Connor blinked, before looking at each other.

Connor's voice cracked, his eyes teared up. "How the hell-"

Rounding the RV, Maggie watched as Murphy reholstered his guns and then launched himself at the tall broad man who just got out of the car. She had expected him to tackle the man to the ground and start pummeling him. But instead Murph attempted to scale the man. He wrapped his arms around his neck and legs around his waist.

"You ugly mother fucker!" Murphy crowed, laughter in his voice. "Where the fuck have you been?" He snuggled his head into the bigger man's shoulder and laid a noisy kiss on his neck.

Merle let out a friendly growl and pushed at the younger man. "Get ta fuck offa me, you fag."

Connor relaxed a little, reholstering one gun before the back driver's side door opened. The door slammed and there stood Andrea. His heart pounded and jumped into his throat all at the same time. "Christ," he muttered and crossed himself. He quickly made his way over to her, his hands grasping her upper arms. "You ok, sweetheart?" He had been praying she would be ok, hoped against hope she was with Rick or Shane. But Merle would do. Merle would do just fine.

Andrea nodded, tears in her eyes, her hand lying on his cheek. "I never thought I would be so happy to see your face, Connor." He pulled her into a hug, leaving a kiss on her cheek.

Crossbow at the ready, Daryl walked around the trees to get a better look at the people in the SUV. He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw who Murphy had his arm around, walking his brother up the driveway.

"Hey Baby Brother!" Merle called. "When yer done catchin' flies wit' yer mouth, how about a hug for yer only brother?"

That spurred the younger Dixon further down the drive. "You sorry fucker," Daryl called wrapping his arm around Merle's shoulders. They parted and Daryl's eyes drifted down to where Merle's hand used to be, over the makeshift stump cover.

Merle caught where he was looking and lifted his arm up for Daryl to see. "Guess we've got some catching up to do."

* * *

_Thank you to the usual suspects- Brodie, Annelisa and Little Miss. I do appreciate the time the three of you take fielding my never ending questions, ponderings, rambles and thoughts. Your input is invaluable. Thank you._

_Wecome to all my new followers. Please feel free to leave me a review and let me know what you think of this tale._


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